


The Right Hand of Wanheda

by Mmmconfused (Thewallflowerwithasword)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Chaos, Death, F/F, F/M, Not Werewolves, Tattoos, Wolves, grounder life, i'm not sure i was really thinking when i started this thing, i've changed my mind, i've my own cannon and it will be fired!, just wolves, no A.L.I.E, original charcaters becuase I can't seem to write anything else, there be A.L.I.E but not that twat that was cannon...am i using cannon right? this the right cannon?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-07-11 04:58:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15965198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thewallflowerwithasword/pseuds/Mmmconfused
Summary: When Clarke Griffin left after the fall of Mount Weather, Izzy Richards went to find her. Together the girls must fight for survival and maybe, along the way, put themselves back together in time to stop the rise of the Ice Nation and the darkness that follows in Queen Nia's wake.  The way is bleak between curious Azgeda spies, angry bears that should have been hibernating and hungry wolves.





	1. Falling Down the Mountain…

Izzy (Isabel if she was in trouble) Richards felt dead inside, numb to all emotions. The only reassurances she had that she was alive at all was the beating of her heart when she put her hand to her chest or a finger to her pulse points. The world could have burned, again, and at the moment, Izzy wouldn’t have cared; just would have regretted not having those Marcello things she’d read about on the Ark. 

At the current moment, Izzy sat with her back against the cool concrete wall of Mount Weather’s command room. Dante Wallace’s abused corpse sat across from her in the chair he’d died in and Izzy couldn’t stop staring at him. She didn’t feel remorse for the damages she’d done to the once living man before Clarke had put a hole in his chest. 

Izzy had taken a sludge hammer she’d found on a dead grounder and had brutalized the Mountain Man in a bid to make his son stop. Stop the drilling into the bones of the Skaikru, to stop killing them. Izzy had destroyed Dante’s left foot, right knee and left hand in her zigzagging path of rage before Clarke had commanded her to cease; Cage Wallace wasn’t responding to his father’s painful screams as they’d been hoping. 

Instead, he ordered Raven Reyes off the drilling table and put on Clarke’s mother. Izzy didn’t have to try, she could still hear Abby’s screams distorted over the radio. They hadn’t hurt as much as Raven’s had but both had been the proverbial straw to Izzy’s downward spiral to her current state. 

It’d started years ago but Mount Weather had finished what Izzy’s mother had started. Patricia Richards had wanted her daughter to be a guard as she, herself, had been. A military legacy passed on from generation to generation. When Izzy was ten, Patricia had been floated. 

Cast out into the unforgiving darkness of space to die a horrible death in a handful of seconds that could have been a lifetime. Her crime had been nearly beating Izzy to death during one of her ‘training’ sessions. Patricia had gotten frustrated and Izzy had taken the brunt of her mother’s aggravations. 

Izzy had been incarcerated when she was sixteen for attacking a guard. The man had made some crack about Izzy and her parents. Izzy’s dad had been a mediocre mechanic, nothing special or as highly ranked as her mother had been. Henry Richards was perfectly happy with his station. 

The guard had mistakenly put Izzy’s mother on a pedestal, disrespected her father and Izzy had violently corrected the man to his folly. Her father had been disappointed in her. She wondered if he saw her now if that disappointment would have turned to disownment.

Not that she’d ever get to ask because he’d been one of the volunteers who’d died for the Ark to live just a little bit longer; those that Bellamy had condemned because he’d tossed Raven’s radio in the drink. Izzy had beat the holy living daylights out of the elder Blake when she’d found out what he’d done. Well, she’d tried but Octavia and Clarke had held Izzy back where Monty and Jasper had failed. Izzy had gotten in a few good licks before being dragged away. 

Then had come the Ring of Fire, and not the Johnny Cash song her father had loved dearly. 300 grounders burned alive by the drop ship’s engines. Izzy blamed Jasper and Bellamy got another black eye for letting Jasper have a gun. He should have seen that Jasper wasn’t stable and was twitchy. 

Thanks to her abusive, drill sergeant of a mother, Izzy’s eidetic memory and Octavia’s grounder boyfriend, Izzy wasn’t half bad with a sword. She’d been fighting outside of the ship when the Clarke had set off the engines. Then she’d been running from grounders when the Mountain Men had taken those in the drop ship except an injured Raven. 

Izzy had refused to stay in the confines of Camp Jaha. She escaped the fence as soon as she could and had raced back to the drop ship. There she’d spent her time collecting fallen weapons that’d been lost in the foliage. Found swords, arrows, knives and a bow that way. 

She was there when Clarke and Anya arrived. Watched them nearly kill each other and then had stopped Clarke when she started to pull Anya towards the fallen Ark. That was a bad idea as the guards were shooting at everything that moved that they could see. Izzy had the graze along her side to prove that point. 

So Anya had gone back to her Commander while Izzy was putting an arrow in Finn Collin’s back; he was attacking a grounder village. Didn’t kill him, only Murphy chuckled when Izzy mumbled that she needed to improve her aim. Finn Collins had murdered six people before Izzy had stepped in; the once peace loving boy had gone off his rails, refused to listen to reason and apparently thought that taking Clarke Griffin’s virginity made him a god that could do no wrong. 

Izzy had been dragged back to camp, her weapons confiscated and Finn had been pardoned of his ‘war crimes’. She’d been forced to stay in camp while Finn had gotten to go help take down the tower jamming the radios. Chancellor Abigail Griffin, doctor extraordinaire, hadn’t appreciated Izzy’s remark that if those grounders had been Skaikru then Finn wouldn’t have been easily forgiven. She hadn’t liked Izzy asking why grounder lives were worth less than Skaikru because hadn’t the Ark’s principles all been about saving humanity? 

It’d taken all Izzy’s self-control, and because Clarke ordered her not too, to not turn over Finn to the Commander when the Commander had arrived wanting justice. Raven had already declared her younger friend disowned and dead to her for nearly killing Finn in the first place. Izzy had stopped caring what happened to the boy after that; she was rooting for the grounders and that hadn’t won her   
any friends. 

Then through a series of strange circumstances that Izzy still couldn’t figure out, she became Anya’s second. It was for a brief period of time but it’d happened. Izzy was sure, by the way Anya had growled at her and ordered her about, that the woman hadn’t wanted a second so soon after Tris had been killed. Despite the gruffness and the familiar abusive training style, Izzy had learned a lot.   
Izzy thought the Skaikru and the grounders had built something that went beyond Clarke’s alliance. She honestly believed that after the mountain fell then they’d get a peaceful future. Skaikru would get to explore the new world and contribute to it in some fashion. Izzy was looking forward to what more Anya could teach her. 

Then Izzy didn’t want to learn what Anya could teach her. She didn’t want to know how to so causally and callously turn her back on her allies and burgeoning friendships. Izzy wondered, briefly, if watching Lexa and Anya walk away from her and Clarke was karma for what Izzy had done to Finn. 

Anya hadn’t even given Izzy a chance to choose between herself and Skaikru. Just turned her nose up and proclaimed herself free of the skaigada. Not that Izzy would have chosen Heda Lexa or her former first. Clarke had never betrayed Izzy, never condemned her even if Izzy had been in TonDC during the missile crisis with Octavia. Izzy wasn’t as prickly and salty as Octavia had been on the subject.

So when the Commander had started to leave Izzy had just cried out angrily to the retreating women. “You’re stupid if you think the Mountain is going to leave you alone after this! When Skaikru are dead, the Mountain Men will walk the Earth and they are greedy! You will be wishing you had killed them while you’d had the chance!”

Only the stiffing of the fleeing backs of the woman showed they’d heard Izzy. Clarke had pulled Izzy to follow her, heading for the reaper tunnels. There they found Octavia at the door and Izzy her sludge hammer. Izzy was going to beat the door down before Bellamy had opened it; she’d nearly kneecapped the young man. 

Then came threats, pain, chaos and finally death. Izzy had fought alongside her fellows. Had killed with arrows, bullets and sword. Clarke had been given the sludge hammer until they’d gotten to the command center; she’d threatened Dante with it to get him out of his room. 

When it was over, Izzy had followed everyone out of the mountain. She’d fallen back, though, and returned. The hallways were quiet and the dead cared not who saw them. They had made Mount Weather a tomb. 

“Fuck this.” Izzy muttered suddenly, spooking herself. She wiped the lone tear that’d leaked down her cheek away. 

Izzy pushed off the wall and stood. Ignoring the corpse and she went to the control display that Monty had used to give Clarke the power for genocide. With a few taps of the keys, Izzy learned exactly what Mount Weather housed. She learned the layout and where the weak points in their foundations were; emergency plans for if the wall between them and the reservoir failed. 

Izzy wasn’t sure what prompted her decision. She really wasn’t the one who liked explosions, that was Raven. However, when Izzy had seen C4 in armory inventor lists, well, it felt like fate had graced Izzy. Clarke may have slew the Mountain but Izzy was going to destroy the Mountain. 

A check of the still working cameras showed that none had entered the Mountain since the Skaikru had left and Izzy had returned. With a freshly printed map, Izzy went to work to seal Mount Weather for good. Well, part of the mountain. There wasn’t enough C4 to close all the exits and only half the mountain would be flooded when Izzy was done; Izzy wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen when the fireworks where done. 

***

First to be sealed was the front doors. The cave-in had worked like a dream and now only the door to the reaper tunnels and the garage exit were the only ways in and out; Izzy wasn’t as suicidal as some claimed her to be. Next, Izzy tucked away the crates she packed from the armory into hidden niches in the reaper tunnels; the non-lethal items that Izzy had wanted to know if they’d be affect against pauna. 

Izzy spent time in the garage, in their machine shop. She wasn’t sure if her planned cave-ins would stop the water from reaching that far up the mountain. Her weapons needed work or replaced and she found the materials to do both. Izzy wasn’t sure when she’d ever get this type of chance again. 

When her impulsive diversion from her plan was done, Izzy stowed her things away near her hidden crates. With a small prayer and hope that she was as smart as she thought herself, Izzy descended into the depths of the complex. Map in hand, she placed the charges and primed the donators. 

She set them off when she returned to the second level after she rigged hallways at the elevator shafts and staircases. When she saw the water bubbling up forever later, Izzy finished sealing the mountain. She made her escape through the reaper door, collected her things and finally left with her shoulders still feeling as heavy as before. 

Izzy headed for Camp Jaha and stopped in the trees; she could see the camp but they couldn’t see her. With her stolen radio and a long debate with herself, Izzy called in to the camp. She just wanted to know what to do now; Izzy had no trouble accepting the fact that she was a damned good follower.

“Camp Jaha, come in Camp Jaha.” Izzy refused to let her voice waver. 

There was a long silence before Izzy got an answer. It was Monty asking, “Is that you, Izzy?”

Izzy smirked. “Nah, Monty, I’m the Easter Bunny and y’all forgot put out cookies for me.” her answer brought a laugh out in the young man. 

“You know that’s Santa who gets the cookies, right?” he asked before getting serious. “Where the hell have you been for the last week? We thought you’d left like Clarke had or were dead!” 

Izzy frowned and blinked dumbly at the camp before she asked, “What do you mean Clarke left?” 

Monty sigh was audible over the radio. “Right after we left the mountain she spilt. Didn’t even come into the camp before she was gone. Told Bellamy something about needing time and space. We’re freaking out, Izzy. Bellamy said that she only had her gun on her. No supplies and no nothing.” Izzy’s frown deepened and her brow furled. “To make matters worse, we thought something had happened to you too! Octavia said you were alive when we left but like Clarke, there was no you around.”

“Breathe, Monty.” Izzy commanded softly. 

She went silent after that, her mind racing with what was going on; Izzy swore softly. Clarke had always been hard on herself and certain people who’d never had the burdens of leadership, or sociopathic tendencies, made things harder than need be. People thought Izzy was suicidal because of her recklessness but this stunt took the cake, in Izzy’s opinion. 

A timid Monty broke Izzy’s thoughts. “Are you still there?” he asked, whimpering slightly. 

“Yea, I’m still here and I think I need to go after Clarke. Make sure she’s still alive.” Izzy admitted, hoping that finding Clarke would help the numbness somehow. Izzy was just as good at tracking as Finn had been and Anya had given her pointers. A week old trail wasn’t daunting. “But, I’m going to need a few supplies, Monty. Just a backpack with a few clothes, blankets and maybe a first aid kit; just something that would help and it doesn’t have to be much. Don’t worry about rations, I can scrounge up something.” 

Monty groaned. “I can try.” He said hesitantly. “Doc…I mean, Chancellor Griffin has us pretty much on lockdown. If you come in you won’t be able to leave. I wouldn’t be able to get out to give you the backpack…unless I talk to Raven or Wick.”

Izzy just nodded and realized that Monty couldn’t see her, the gesture was useless. “Just give it a try, Monty. If you can’t then no worries. Earth Skills gotta be handy for something, right?” Izzy joked softly. “Just let me know by morning. I don’t want to get too far behind Clarke. Well, more than I already am.”

“I’ll try.” Monty whispered and then he was gone. 

Izzy sighed as she turned off the radio and leaned back against her tree. Her sword was cradled in her arms and her eyes felt heavy. Not for the first time, Izzy wished she could vanish into the shadows that surrounded her. Cease to exist and find peace. 

***

Izzy woke with the first light of the sun and couldn’t remember when she’d fallen asleep. She was huddled down in her coat, not warm but entirely chilled either; just enough to be miserable and unable to go back to sleep. Getting to her feet, Izzy shook herself to try and generate body heat to warm up before wandering over the berry bush that she’d missed the night before. 

A quick investigation found them to be like the bushes near the drop ship. Izzy ate her fill, her fingertips turning an off reddish color. The bitter tasted of the berries washed away by the cold water in her canteen. 

Izzy had just finished her morning business behind a tree a distance away from the tree she’d slept against when her radio beeped. She decided, as she listened to Monty asking her to meet by some tree on the other side of the camp, that it was a good thing that she’d already emptied her bladder or she was going to be hurting pant wise. The suddenness of the radio call had sent her heart racing and she wasn’t sure why. 

Getting herself back under control and with nothing to pack, Izzy headed off for the tall and visible dead tree that Monty had chosen. She kept to the deep bush and moved as quietly as she could. Izzy wasn’t as quiet as Trikru but she was sure that she could have snuck up on one of the Ark guards. 

When she finally arrived at the tree, staying back and scouting the area first, Izzy cursed Monty’s name; she probably should have told him not to tell anyone about her request. He could have thought up lie to tell Raven or Wick. Instead of Monty waiting for her it was pale and sickly Chancellor Griffin leaning up against Lincoln. 

At Lincoln’s feet was a roll of furs with a sling keeping it together and a backpack that looked stuffed to the gills. Izzy frowned and wondered exactly what Clarke’s mom had put together. While she was pondering this, and if it was safe to actually approach the pair, Izzy watched Lincoln lean down and whisper something to Dr. Griffin. 

The woman nodded and cried out, “I know you’re here, Isabel. There’s no point in hiding.” Her voice echoed through the trees.   
Izzy sighed heavily and climbed down from her vantage point. Slowly, carefully, she approached. Her eyes darting about to catch sign of guards or either Blake sibling. Wherever Lincoln went, Octavia wasn’t far behind. 

“Are you hurt, Izzy?” Dr. Griffin asked in concern, she was studying Izzy intently. 

Izzy shook her head. “No ma’am. I’m not injured.” 

The older woman nodded, accepting but there was disbelief in her eyes. “Where’ve you been, Isabel?” she wanted to know. “Have…have you been with the grounders? It’s not a bad thing if you were.” Dr. Griffin was quick to placate when Lincoln grunted unhappily. “I just want to know if you were safe.”

Izzy gulped and decided to tell the truth. She could escape Dr. Griffin and she doubted that Lincoln would bring her back…maybe. Besides, there was a saying that the truth would set a person free and Izzy wanted to be free of the emptiness in her chest. 

“I was at Mount Weather, ma’am. Um…I destroyed it using C4.” Izzy confessed and Dr. Griffin’s eyes went wide; even the ever stoic Lincoln looked shocked. “Medical is still accessible but all of the lower levels are flooded and sealed. You can’t get to them.”

Dr. Griffin’s shoulders slumped as she demanded weakly, “Why would you do that, Isabel?”

Izzy shrugged and wished that she could cry but her eyes were dry. “Because it’s a place of death. It wasn’t a paradise or a promised land or a sanctuary. From the moment the first generation of Mountain Men took up residence it was a tomb, they just didn’t know it yet.” Izzy reasoned, feeling strange for putting words to her decisions. “I sat in there, for a long time, in the command room. It was silent. No hum of engines. No mummer of voices. No vibrations in the floors. Just silence. Bring life back to there would have been disrespectful to those who’d died there; predator and prey. It would have been dishonoring what Clarke accomplished through genocide. Tell me, Chancellor, did anyone ever rebuild over Auschwitz and live there?”

Dr. Griffin sputtered indignantly while Lincoln’s features went back to stoicism. “You cannot compare that to this!” the woman cried, her chest heaving. 

“Why not?” Izzy wanted to know. “Did not the Mountain Men imprison, experiment upon and murder thousands if not millions of grounders over the past fifty years. Did not Clarke and our forces battle against a group who thought it was their God-given right to do whatever it meant to succeed? Did they not hate the grounders simply because they were different?” Izzy asked, her voice strong and never wavered. Dr. Griffin flinched with each question as if she was being slapped. “That mountain will bring nothing but death, Dr. Griffin. What else could it bring when that’s all it’s known?” Izzy sighed wearily and shook her head. “If you must, medical was left undamaged and I think you can still get to the garage.”

Dr. Griffin nodded slowly. Her eyes a storm of emotions. Izzy wasn’t surprised by what the woman did next, Dr. Griffin was part of the Ark Council after all. 

“Isabel Richards, you’ve committed crimes against the Ark by destroying Mount Weather, a resource that could have helped our people.” Dr. Griffin’s voice did not waver as Lincoln frowned down at the woman he was holding up. “I hereby, as Chancellor, order that you find and return my daughter to her people. If you cannot, then consider yourself banished.”

Izzy just nodded and deadpanned back. “And here Camp Jaha was starting to grow on me…like a fungus that needs a spray to make go away.” that only enraged the woman further and Izzy continued. “I will find Clarke, Dr. Griffin.” Izzy promised, refusing to address the woman by her rank. “But it won’t be for you. It’ll be for Clarke. While I know she is strong enough to make it on her own and she could out survive the lot of us, it’ll because I know what demons will hunt her.”

Dr. Griffin merely snarled at Izzy before asking Lincoln to help her back to camp. Before Lincoln to follow the wobbly woman, he gave Izzy a nod of acknowledgement. Izzy waited until they were both out of sight to collect the bags. 

Sticking out of one of the backpack’s pockets was a folded piece of paper that looked freshly white. Izzy recognized Monty’s scrawl on the back; Clarke had headed northwards. The paper was a newly printed map with a circled search area and a dot where Clarke had left the group. Izzy stuffed the map in her pocket, shouldered the backpack before slinging the furs over her shoulder; she could stop later and check what she’d been given but right now she wanted away from Camp Jaha.


	2. Wandering Wanheda Found…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say how amazing you all are. Firstly for taking the time to read this and especially everyone who commented and left kudos.   
> I only started writing this because of extreme writer's block for my own original work. Just needed to get writing again. Honestly, I hadn't even really thought out my plot until I posted the first chapter and realized I didn't know where I was headed with this story, I do know though. 
> 
> thank you for reading and enjoy

Izzy found it highly disturbing that she found Clarke so easily. Three day’s walk north of Camp Jaha. Clarke had found a cave that was near a fast moving creek and had taken up residence. Izzy had followed an easy trail of camp fire rings, muddy foot prints and broken branches. 

First thing that Izzy did upon finding Clarke was to remove the pistol the girl was sleeping with; Izzy didn’t want to be shot again. Using a long stick, Izzy maneuvered the hand held device of quick death away from the sleeping girl. Izzy let out a big sigh of relief when Clarke merely groaned and rolled over, that Clarke stayed sleeping. 

With that done, Izzy set to work; unrolling the furs and covering her friend before rebuilding the fire. Izzy set off then with her bow to find something for them something to eat. She was several hundred yards from Clarke’s cave when the Epic Battle of the Rabbit happened. 

Some rabbits had stayed small and fluffy. Then there were some like the giant gorilla that Clarke and Lexa had run into or that two-faced deer in the woods. They were affected by the radiation.   
The mega-rabbit, as the Delinquents had named them, were the size of a small dog. They were vicious and aggressive and Izzy wouldn’t be surprised if they ate meat. The one that attacked her was certainly trying to take chunks out of her between knocking the air out of her its hind legs. Izzy finally brought the rabbit down with an arrow that pined the rabbit to a tree, the rabbit finally died when Izzy took its head off with her sword. 

“Earth Skills was a lie.” Izzy sneered at the blood and fur that was on her blade. “I seriously hope Pike is reaping his just rewards for all those lies.” She snarled at the twitchy rabbit body. “Fuck Dorothy too with her lions, tigers and bears. Should have been: rabbits, gorillas and grounders, we’re all going to die!” 

Izzy was still muttering to herself as she field dressed the massive rabbit before heading back to Clarke’s cave. She was skinning the rabbit, sitting beside the fire when Clarke started screaming in her sleep. Izzy, deciding it was safer to stay away, threw a pinecone at Clarke’s dirty blonde locks. 

Clarke sat blot up when the pinecone hit her, her hand searching the ground beside her for the gun. The blonde froze when her blue eyes found Izzy. Those eyes narrowed to a dangerous glare. 

“What are you doing here, Isabel?” Clarke demanded. “I told Bellamy that I needed space!”

Izzy frowned petulantly. “What is it with you and your mother using my given name?” Izzy wanted to know. She sighed when Clarke didn’t answer. “Why am I here?” Izzy pondered for a moment exactly what she was going to tell Clarke. “Well, honestly, I’m here because I’m scared. I’m here because I’ve never abandoned you and I’m not starting now. I’m here because you mother banished me from Camp Jaha.” 

Clarke looked flabbergasted. “My mother did what? Why?!” 

So, as Izzy readied the mega-rabbit to cook, she told Clarke her tale. Told her everything. From staring at Dante, her visit to the machine shop and the hidden crates, the final destruction of Mount Weather and Chancellor Griffin’s reaction. She even mentioned what she was feeling and how she didn’t dream anymore. 

Since walking away from Mount Weather, Izzy hadn’t dreamed. There was just nothing; if she did dream she didn’t remember them and they didn’t wake her up scream like Clarke had just done, minus the pinecone. Izzy almost longed for nightmares because then it would mean that her subconscious was trying to work out her problems and that Izzy wasn’t completely broken. Normal people who do bad things or suffer trauma suffer nightmares. 

Clarke scoffed as she watched the flames crackle. “My mother always did have double standards. I can murder a whole civilization and she doesn’t bat an eyelash. You destroy a building, more or less, and it’s the end of the freaking world.” Clarke hugged her knees to her chest and sat her chin upon them. “Are you going to force me back to camp?”

Izzy just blinked at her friend. “Did you hit your head recently? Dropped on your head as a child perhaps? Eaten anything akin to those Jobi nuts? Have you lost your floating mind?! I didn’t hit you that hard with the pinecone…did I?” Izzy demanded irately.

Clarke chuckled and shook her head. “No, none of the above. So if you’re not here to take me back…what’s the plan, Stan?”

“I don’t have a plan.” Izzy admitted freely. “Not much past finding you, really. I’m just here, Clarke. Oh, and to keep you from going further north. Monty wrote us a note on this map that Lincoln helped him doctor, shows us where the clans are located and everything. We are not, emphasis on the not, to head north.” Izzy tossed the backpack to Clarke and directed her to the map pocket. “Apparently everything up north of Trikru, where we are, is all Azgeda. The Ice Nation are not very well spoken of…by any of the grounders that I’ve ever talked to about the different clans.” 

Clarke just nodded as her fingers glided over the surface of the map. “To the south are Shallow Valley and Broadleaf clans. To the east, avoiding Polis, is the Boat People.” Clarke sneered slightly as she named the capital of the Kongedakru. “To the west, immediately, is the Blue Cliff clan. So many choices…” she mused darkly and then looked up at Izzy. “What exactly are we going to do?”

“Walkabout?” Izzy offered. “The traditional journey of an aboriginal youth into the wild to live in the traditional style that symbolizes their transition into adulthood. At least, that’s what Mrs. Graves defined the walkabout as.” Izzy still didn’t like their history teacher from the Ark. The woman’s high and nasally voice had been like nails on chalkboard to Izzy and Izzy couldn’t forget the sound. 

Clarke gave Izzy a funny look. “You want to wander in the wild? Amongst people that we don’t know, who potentially hate us and that we speak to because we don’t really know the local language.”

Izzy grinned and nodded. “You’ve found the American spirit. Back in the day, it was tradition to vacay in foreign countries where they couldn’t speak the language and were greatly hated for just being American. Besides, aren't you already wondering?” Izzy asked.

Clarke ignored that last question and rolled her eyes at her friend. “My ancestors were from Australia.” Clarke informed Izzy.

“Mine were from England and Germany.” Izzy tossed back. “But…Clarke of the Pain-in-the-Ass People, we’re in what was the United States of America.”

Clarke shook her head. “Means nothing, Isabel.” Izzy whined at her friend for the name usage while Clarke chuckled. “So what have you heard about these Boat People that Monty mentioned. Told us to ask for someone named Luna?”

“Anya called Luna a bushhada. I think that means coward.” Izzy wasn’t sure. “Gist of what I heard is that Luna was in Polis during Commander You-Know-Who’s conclave and then vanished. Popped up with the Floukru…Floudonkru? Anyways, she turned up with them not to long after as their leader.”

Clarke glared at Izzy before smirking. “Lexa is not Voldemort, Izzy. You can use her name.” Izzy shrugged, she could care less what she called Lexa as long as Clarke knew to whom she was referring. “Lincoln and Luna friends then?” Clarke pondered aloud. 

Izzy really couldn’t answer the question. “We can go there and find out, if you want.”

Clarke shook her head. “No,” she decided. “Too close to Polis for comfort.” 

Izzy just nodded and finally set the prepared rabbit to cook over the hot coals and low fire. She really didn’t care where they went as long as they went together. Izzy wasn’t sure she could take being abandoned again. 

***

It was against Izzy’s protests and what Izzy felt was better judgment that Clarke decided that they should travel further north before heading west. Clarke reasoned that closer to Azgeda there would be fewer Trikru to which Izzy replied that there would be more Azgeda. Neither girl wanted to meet either people at the moment. 

Clarke didn’t sleep much, Izzy noted, as they traveled. That first night after Izzy had caught up to her, Clarke had suffered through a string of nightmares. At first, Clarke would just shuffle in her sleep and mutter incoherently. Clarke would wake, jerking slightly and would look around wildly until she found Izzy. After making sure that the girl in the process of making a bow was alright, Clarke would go back to sleep. 

Then things would get bad. Once Clarke had done deep enough to enter REM sleep, the second time around, the shuffling and muttering because writhing and screaming. Izzy would toss a pinecone at Clarke to watch her up; it worked every time and Izzy wasn’t brave enough to wake Clarke because Clarke sleep with her knife under her pillow. 

“Why do you do that?” Clarke demanded, irate and sweaty. They were four days away from Clarke’s cave and Izzy was putting the finishing touches on the bow she was making. “Can’t you be like a normal person and wake me up gently?”

Izzy snorted. “And get gutted when you come up fighting? No thanks, I like my innards exactly where they are located, on my insides.” Izzy heard Clarke scoff and the blonde girl started to move about. “Now that you’re awake, I’ve a question. Just a random thought really.”

Clarke didn’t respond right away, she was guzzling from the water bottle they’d found in the backpack that Monty had packed. Had to be Monty because Dr. Griffin would have made sure the hoodie that had been added would have been in Izzy or Clarke’s size; she would have remembered they have boobs that take up space. The garment had made a great pillow so far. 

“What’s your question?” Clarke finally gave in and asked. 

Izzy sighed and looked up at the cloudy night sky. “How do you think that Mount Weather captured people from other clans besides Trikru and Azgeda?” this was a question that was really bothering Izzy. “I mean, Anya and Lexa both stated that the Coalition had been built around a common enemy, right?” Clarke nodded, looking curious as to Izzy’s line of thought. “So, why was the place an enemy of anyone other than Trikru and Azgeda? No one else is close enough to be snatched by guys in hazmat suits because, really, how much oxygen do you think they’d be able to carry?” 

Clarke’s shoulders sagged in thought. “The gage on Emerson’s tank gave them twelve hours of air,” Clarke said. Her brow furled because that wouldn’t have been enough time to even reach Azgeda. She would have thought someone would have mentioned maunon coming out of a vehicle. “Would the reapers have been able to operate out that far? We had Lincoln tied up for two days or so before he started to go through withdrawals. Could have been possible,” she mused, “if they were using those who’d built up a resistance to the drug, go longer between fixes? Or it could have been threat of the missiles.”

“Reaper homing pigeons and screaming death rockets outta nowhere, yeah, that’s not scary at all.” Izzy shuddered at the implications of far reaching monsters. She sighed then, setting aside her now completed project for morning inspection. “You up now? Want to take watch?” 

Clarke nodded, knowing that she wasn’t going to get to back sleep anytime soon. She sighed as Izzy handed over her still warm jacket before slipping between the blankets that Clarke had just vacated. The jacket was slipped over her legs after another branch was added to the fire and Clarke put her back to the flames. 

Izzy had been quite adamant that staring at the fire during watch rendered being on watch useless. The firelight ruined night vision and it was too easy to become super focused on the crackling of the flames to notice anything else. There were times that Clarke really enjoyed Izzy’s random facts and others when she understood why people weren’t Izzy’s biggest fans. 

***

The next morning, Izzy gave Clarke the bow she’d made for her. Then, promptly, had to exchange Clarke’s bow for her own because Clarke couldn’t draw back the string of the new bow. Izzy had accepted this with ease after getting smacked by Clarke for snickering at the failed pull. 

Where Izzy had had training on the Ark and then on the ground, Izzy had gained muscles while Clarke hadn’t had any of that. Clarke had relied on the strong backs of Bellamy, Finn, and Miller and so on to do the labor around camp. The only fighting had ever done was pulling the trigger of her pistol. This was something that Izzy was determined to change. 

At night, when they’d camp and dinner was cooking (or before having cold and smoky leftovers), Izzy would teach Clarke what she knew about fighting. Half the battle was conditioning and lack of stamina. First was hand to hand combat as that was the style that Izzy knew best. Then when the training sessions were over, they made arrows from materials they’d collected throughout the day. Izzy’s memory guiding them from theory to practicality.

The eighth day from Clarke’s cave, Izzy was wondering how far she and Clarke had actually walked. How many miles per day that they’d managed? Izzy had lifted her head to ask Clarke when Izzy felt a prickle of fear trickle down her spine in cold sensation. 

The forest was silent. No birds chirped and there was no chattering of giant squirrels. That cold sensation became bitter when Izzy realized that she and Clarke were being watched and not just sleep deprivation playing tricks on her mind.

“Clarke,” Izzy called softly to the girl in front of her. “Don’t stop walking and don’t turn around.”

Clarke started to turn but stopped herself, there was a hitch in her step. “Why not?”

Izzy heard a small growl from the right of them. “Because you are going to calmly keep walking until you reach that tree about ten feet in front of us. When you get to it, baby girl, you are going to climb like your life depended upon it, understand?”

Clarke just nodded, knowing the situation was serious; Izzy only used terms of endearments when then were about to go badly. Izzy saw Clarke drop her hand to the pistol in her waistband. They were to the tree, Clarke had started to climb when a sharp bark broke the tension of the forest. That brake was followed by a chorus of others, Clarke couldn’t climb fast enough. 

She was up three heavy branches, Izzy just starting her climb. Clarke turned and drew her pistol, shooting over Izzy’s shoulder at the wolf that had been trying to catch Izzy’s leg with an open mouth. Izzy’s ears rang and she felt the bullet whiz by her cheek, the resulting yip of pain was loud and not well received by the rest of the pack. 

Izzy whimpered when she counted seven different wolves trying to jump up the tree to get them. She flinched each time Clarke shot the pistol. Izzy hugged the branch she rested on and hid her face. 

“GO FLOAT YOURSELVES!” Clarke screamed and threw the empty pistol at the last wolf. 

Izzy’s eyes went wide when the wolf caught the useless weapon in its mouth and with a powerful jerk of its head, flung the thing off into the forest. That wasn’t normal! Izzy was never leaving the tree she was in, she decided. It was a nice tree, with thick branches and pretty needles instead of leaves. 

“Isabel Victoria Richards, do something!” Clarke cried and Izzy wondered who the hell had told Clarke her middle name. 

Izzy wanted to know. “Who told you my middle name!? Was it Callie?” Izzy demanded. “She promised she would keep it to herself!” 

Clarke gaped at Izzy as more wolves joined the pistol flinger. “Are you serious?! You want to know that now?” Clarke was flabbergasted and slightly appalled. “You’ve a bow, shot them!”

Izzy frowned. “You’ve a bow too, Clarke.”

“YOU’VE THE ARROWS!” Clarke shrieked, her face going red at the force in which she’d yelled. 

It was with great difficulty that Izzy forced herself to sit up and free her bow from the back pack. She almost tipped their quiver over in the process, Clarke saved them. A pale, shaking and sweaty Izzy meekly thanked Clarke, and again when Clarke handed her a single arrow. 

Izzy’s hands now trembled as she knocked the arrow. She squeaked slightly when wolf jumped higher than the rest and the tip of its nose came close to Clarke’s boot. Izzy nearly fell out of the tree when Clarke reached out and touched her shoulder; just liked the arrows, Clarke saved Izzy from going over. 

“Breathe, Izzy.” Clarke said calmly. Her voice softer and kinder than before as tears streaked down Izzy’s face. “Just breathe. They can’t get us here, we’re safe for the moment. You can do this. Remember what you taught me about archery?”

Izzy nodded, her jaw tightly clenched and her legs wrapped tightly enough around the branch that the bark bit at her through her pants. She had to force her jaw open so she could take steadying breathes; also because breathing through her nose was going to make her lose what little she and Clarke had eaten so far that day. The writhing mass below smelled rotten, decaying meat that’d been left too long in the sun before it decided to get up and start walking around. It was the smell of the Level Five when Izzy had passed through to set her watery charges. 

Still trembling, heart thumping out of control and sweat rolling down the side of her nose, Izzy drew back the string and arrow. She was trying to forget but Izzy could never forget. That was more of a karmic bitch slap that Lexa leaving them. 

The sound of wood sliding against wood was lost over the baying of the dogs below. The shot missed the wolf Izzy was aiming at but hit the one just behind right in the eye. Clarke gave a victorious shout when the wolf fell dead. She urged Izzy on; every shot after that seemed to sooth the younger girl. Mostly because the number of killer wolves decreased. Izzy wondered why they just wouldn’t leave with so many of their number dead.

***

“Eleven wolves.” Clarke had counted, holding her hand over her face, as Izzy had scrambled off to throw up in the bushes; as far away from the wolves as she could get before losing her stomach. Everything had come up, Izzy decided, that she’d ever eaten or would ever eat. “How can there be that many? Is that normal?”

Izzy sat on the ground, her back against another tree and nodded. “Yes. One book started that wolf packs can be from five to seven wolves all the way up to fifteen. However, that was back in the day. Who the float-y fuck knows now?” 

Both Izzy and Clarke jumped when Anya, of all people, came crashing through the brush. Her sword and dagger drawn, Anya was looking for a fight. Izzy just whimpered at the fierce looking woman who was eyeing the dead wolves. Of course it’d be Anya to find them; that seemed to be the general’s number one talent of randomly finding them in the woods.

“If you’re here to kill us, I won’t fight.” Izzy said, she was in hell trying to breathe through her mouth. “Just make it quick, that’s all I ask.”

That snapped Anya out of her daze. She slowly turned to face the pitiful girl. “Branwada gada!” Anya hissed, angrily. “I’m not here to kill you! I’m here to kill them!” she pointed her sword at the wolves.   
Izzy glared at Anya. “You’re late to the party then, branwada whatever.” Izzy shot back and then scrambled back to her bush to dry heave. 

The broke Clarke from her stupor, she hurried over to Izzy. Gently rubbing her back to help her friend. When it was over, she gave Izzy their canteen to take sips from, slowly at first.   
“Were you following us, Anya?” Clarke asked, still kneeling beside Izzy. 

Anya merely shrugged. “Maybe…” the woman offered. “Maybe not.” Her mouth twitching unhappily as she poked at one of the wolves with her sword. “You both did well.” Anya said and sounded in pain as she made her admission. “Are you going to take their hides?”

Izzy gaged at the thought of getting close enough to field dress and skin the animals. “I can’t.” she confessed through tears. 

“Why not?” Anya demanded, tersely. She snarled as she asked, “Are you weak, Izabel kom Skaikru?” 

“They smell like Level Five.” Izzy whimpered in confession, Clarke gasped in horrified surprise; this was the first of Izzy mentioning nothing more than vague details. Izzy ignored her friend as she struggled to breathe. Her heaving chest not able to drew deep enough or hold the air long enough to be of service to Izzy; made her dizzy and lightheaded. “The bodies were putrid. I can’t, I can’t…I can’t…I had to destroy the mountain so I had to pass by there and I can’t…”

Clarke grasped Izzy’s face in her hands and made the teary eyed girl look at her. Blocking out the sight of the wolves as she turned Izzy’s head. “Breathe slow and deep, Izzy. Slow and deep. We’re okay. Tell me something about the old world?” Clarke offered the distraction easily. “What was the single greatest advantage of the Roman Empire?” it was random but Izzy’s mind latched onto the question, her mind’s eye roving over the class lectures and books she’d read. 

“Numbers.” Izzy rasped and whimpered, the images of ancient history competing with recent history. “They could field legions easily. In the campaign against Hannibal Barca in the Second Punic War, at the Battle of Cannae, the Roman Empire lost around 40,000 men. The single greatest defeat the Roman Empire was ever dealt. In the aftermath, they raised another legion and took the fight to Hannibal’s home and the Romans won the Second Punic Wars.”

Clarke smiled softly. “Isn’t Hannibal the one who had war elephants?”

Izzy giggled and nodded. “Yea, but they all died when he crossed the Alps. It seems so ridiculous, war elephants. You know how the Romans defeated them?” Clarke shook her head, pretending she didn’t know though she’d heard Izzy rant about them before. “They merely stepped to the side when the elephants charged and let them pass.”

Anya knelt beside the girls, a curious expression upon her face. “What are you talking about?”

“Seriously ancient history.” Clarke said, letting a now calm Izzy go. “Thousands of years ago.”

Anya looked contemplative. “How do you know it if it was from so long ago? Are you a sage, Izabel kom Skaikru?” 

Izzy rolled her eyes. “We’ve talked about this! Can you please just call me Izzy?” she asked plaintively. “I’m only Isabel if I’m in trouble and no, I’m not a sage. All Skaikru are taught the history of the world. I just remember it better than others do because I remember everything I see and hear.”

Anya raised an eyebrow. “Everything? Why wasn’t I told about this before?” 

Izzy remembered now why she hated people in general. “Because you didn’t ask.” She was chastised for the outburst by Clarke.

“Yes, Izzy remembers everything she sees or hears.” Clarke reiterated to Anya, braking the glaring contest between Anya and Izzy. “She has what’s known as an eidetic memory, commonly known as a photographic memory.” 

Anya nodded and then stood. “Then, Wanheda,” both Izzy and Clarke gave Anya a strange look. That was a word that neither of them had heard before and they weren’t sure why Anya was addressing Clarke that way. “You will be the one to help with these wolves.” The woman proclaimed before letting out a sharp whistle. Slowly from the trees came more grounders, Izzy couldn’t even begin to guess their clans. Only a few looked healthy enough to fight and those few were the only ones with armor and weapons. “We were escorting Azgeda home from the Maun-de when we heard the baying. I just arrived before the rest of my gona.”

“Nice hustle, everyone. I give that an ‘A’ for effort. Cream of the crop, you lot. Almost beat us to the scene of our impending deaths.” Izzy muttered and failed to suppress a full body shiver at the sight of the dead animals and the memories of the empty cages. The stench of blood that lingered there. Izzy looked at Clarke. “May I go find a new spot to throw up on?”


	3. Persistent Echoes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who left kudos and comments. Normally, I try to reply to comment but recently it's been hard because of personal reasons. 
> 
> I know this story seems like its kind of getting off to a slow start but my chapters are shorter than what I usually write. We'll get there, don't worry.

Izzy was more than willing to hand over her various collection of knives to Anya in exchange for Izzy getting out of skinning duty. Of course, she made Anya promise that every knife was going to be returned when the job was done. Izzy had quickly moved away after Anya had agreed, well, Izzy had lingered because she hadn’t quite believed her former fos. The older woman seemed a little offended to be considered untrustworthy. 

After, finally, shucking her backpack, Izzy was happy to collapse face first into the cool dirt near where the rest of Anya’s group was making camp. Most, that were able, were helping with the wolves. The guards were split between the two groups, Izzy was sure that it was more about watching Azgeda that it was for watching for danger. 

“Are all Skaikru weak like you?” a dark headed, young woman asked disdainfully from nearby. 

Izzy looked over and shrugged. “Hard to say. They all seem to have their own special brand of weakness and craziness plus stupidity. Sort of the trifecta.” Izzy lifted her head up, the young woman who’d spoken to her was sitting on the ground with a blanket wrapped around her thin shoulders. “I have some jerky in my pack if you want some. Don’t ask if it’s poisoned. Only an idiot carries spoiled food,   
that’s just asking for trouble.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Izzy. “What is your name Skaikru?” 

Izzy grinned as she sat up and pulled her pack closer. She told the woman and got a name in return before handing over the last of the preserved mega-rabbit. Echo kom Azgeda forced herself to take small bites and to chew thoroughly before swallowing.

“Why aren’t you with your people, Skaikru?” Echo wanted to know, still carefully chewing the rabbit. 

Izzy had been staring at her open backpack and had almost forgotten Echo was sitting nearby. “Reasons.” Izzy responded. “Clarke and I wanted to go on the three hour tour but that was messed up by bad weather. We lost the Professor, Mary Ann, Ginger too. Pretty sure that the Skipper and Gilligan are still holding out hope for the Howells somewhere back yonder.”

Echo looked surprised before her composer was regained. “So, a lot of your people were lost in the bad weather?” 

Izzy felt apologetic for a second when she remembered that pop culture references were lost on the people of the ground. She wanted to explain but didn’t want Echo to think that Izzy was lying to her. Sarcasm was lost with these overly serious people, Izzy kind of felt bad for them. 

“Or were eaten by rabbits.” Izzy said and then frowned. “You know, on the Ark, they never told us to be weary of the rabbits. Well, Elmer Fudd tried, but to honest, he was a cartoon character.” Echo looked confused. “A fictional character created to entertain others? He was a drawing.” Now Echo understood. “His archrival was a talking rabbit named Bugs Bunny.”

Echo looked dismayed. “The rabbits talked? I’ve never heard of a talking rabbit. Are they more dangerous than the…?” Izzy stopped the Azgeda woman. 

“No, Bugs wasn’t real either.” Echo sighed in relief at this reassurance. “They were just characters that were made to get a laugh. Bugs was the hero while Elmer Fudd was the branwada.” Izzy felt proud of herself for getting to use the word correctly. “The rabbit always won after getting the better of the hunter.”

Echo frowned. “Only the weak fail to capture the rabbits.”

Izzy frowned as well, remembering the vicious creature she’d had to behead to kill. “Yeah, I’m not sure we’re thinking of the same type of killer rabbits.” Izzy wondered if this was a case of my kru is better than your kru. “The ground got crazy while Skaikru was stuck spinning in space.” She muttered, which only prompted a new line of questioning from Echo. 

***

Izzy was aware that it was possible to talk a lot while saying nothing at all. She was also aware of the fact that Echo was interrogating her. Getting close to Izzy so that Izzy would let slip some snippet of information about Skaikru. Izzy did have to admit that Echo getting Izzy to share a blanket with her was a smooth move. 

It brought them closer together, fostering a sense of trust. Made Echo non-threatening and would get Izzy to answer more questions. Izzy really hoped that mentioning that the Justice League were citizens of the Ark wouldn’t come back to bite her on the ass; she was really stretching it with the Green Lantern’s ring and the mystical powers it held. Hal Jordan was a powerful high priest of the Skaikru   
who didn’t like the color yellow. 

Izzy knew she should have stopped but Echo eagerly soaked in the information as if she were a sponge. The questioning ended when Anya called Izzy away, a scowl on her face and dangerous eyes pointed at smug Echo. Anya dragged Izzy away by her arm. 

“You do know she is a spy, sha?” Anya hissed lowly before shoving Izzy towards a tired and green faced Clarke. 

Anya’s tone struck a nerve and Izzy gritted her teeth. “What do you care?” she demanded to know. “Who you afraid for, General?” Izzy spat the question. “The poor, dimwitted Skaikru who refused to die like good little sheep or your precious, backstabbing Commander?” 

The world stilled for a long moment and the Fate’s stopped their waving to watch. Atropos’s shears hovered, wavering slightly in anticipation, to cut the woven thread that ran through her fingers. Her shears were closing in on Izzy’s life thread when Clarke jerked Izzy away from the red-faced Trikru general and as Izzy was pulled to safety the shears were removed from the thread. 

“You dare question the Heda?” Anya asked in a dangerous tone. Her white-knuckled fist tightly gripped the hilt of her sword. 

Clarke clamped a hand over Izzy’s mouth but it didn’t stop the muttering. “I think what Izzy meant to say is, we can take care of ourselves with outside influence.” Clarke’s tone was light but dripped with pointed innuendo. Izzy appreciated the dig and fell silent though Clarke didn’t remove her hand. “Thanks for the concern. Now, you were mentioning something about buying these hides from us?” 

Anya’s angry eyes shifted to Clarke from Izzy. “Sha, Wanheda.” Anya sneered the title, sounding as if it’d left a bitter taste in her mouth as it exited her lips. “Heda takes care of her people and was going   
to pay for Niylah, the trader in the nearby post, to outfit the Azgeda before the snow falls. Which should be soon. You should return to your camp, wouldn’t want the pitiful sheep to die in the cold.” 

Clarke’s grip on Izzy’s face became painful. A small smile played on Clarke’s lips as she asked, “How exactly are you paying for our hides? I would hate to miss out on a chance to barter; the merchants of TonDC taught me a great deal while I was there. Ya know, helping to plan how to kill your most feared enemy. Your boogeyman, the one you told your children about to make them behave. That we killed in one night while you had decades.” Izzy was going to be surprised if they got to leave Anya’s presence alive by the way Anya was grinding her teeth in pure rage.

Later as Clarke and Izzy sat at their own little campfire away from the others. “So, what did you tell that Azgeda woman?” there was a hint of worry in Clarke’s words. 

Izzy swallowed back a grin. “You know that collection of comic books your dad had?” Izzy asked and Clarke nodded slowly. “Echo now knows the plot to at least a quarter of those stories. As well as Gilligan’s Island and The Loony Tunes. Apparently, Skaikru is a lot more interesting than I’ve ever given them credit for, go figure?” 

Clarke smacked Izzy upside the head, she was trying to compose herself. They both wondered what Anya would have said knowing what Izzy had actually said. Not that they were going to tell the general anything. 

***

It would take a week for the wolf hides to cure and the powder they’d been doused with to take the smell away to the point that the hides were use able. Anya had decided to wait the hides out. She and Clarke had worked out a deal in trade for the hides in small gold coins; made Izzy wondered if someone had finally knocked over Fort Knox?

It was at Anya’s radiating waves of rage that made Clarke decided she and Izzy would head on along their way the next morning; safer for them, at least. Izzy’s knifes would be returned at breakfast as they were no longer needed, as would the arrows that had been salvageable. The decision was gracefully accepted by Izzy, even if she wanted to keep talking to Echo; Izzy wasn’t sure she’d ever had such an attentive audience. 

Clarke and Izzy were discussing their plans at their little fire, the night having quickly enveloped the camp, when Echo approached them. The Azgeda woman had sat down next to Izzy at the campfire and Izzy didn’t push her away when she felt the woman shivering. A quick look around showed that Echo’s fellow clan had paired up for warmth and Echo was the odd person out without a cuddly buddy of warmth. 

The air had become cold, Izzy noticed, as Clarke picked up the lonely little sketchpad that they’d found in the backpack. A bite to the air that hadn’t been there when the drop ship had landed. Gave Izzy pause to think that winter was coming; at least she thought it was, no one had actually given them a warning. 

“Here, put this on, it’ll keep you warm.” Izzy relented and had dug in the strangely packed backpack for the hoodie that neither she nor Clarke could wear. The blonde girl remained quiet though she watched Izzy and Echo interact. 

Echo frowned at the garment but wasn’t given time to question it as Izzy hurried to get it on her; it fit the thinner woman perfectly. There was a small smile on Izzy when Echo sighed content, the hood up, and leaned into Izzy’s side. Sure, Echo was probably playing Izzy but Izzy felt like she’d done her one good deed for the day. 

It wasn’t about getting Echo to like her. It wasn’t about getting Echo to like Skaikru. Izzy could have cared less about Echo’s opinion of her or her people. It was about doing something nice for someone simply for the sake of doing something nice. Izzy wondered if that made her even more selfish. 

“This is a strange but welcome garment.” Echo muttered, her shivering having stopped. 

Izzy had to agree, shifting a bit to get a better position on the log on which she was leaning. “It’s a relic from back in the day. So, tell me, Miss Echo of the Ice Nation, if you were giving a guided tour of your home clan, where would you start?”

Echo scoffed. “The boarder before making them go somewhere else.” In Izzy’s peripheral vision she saw Clarke raise an eyebrow. 

“Wow, I can see that Azgeda is a thriving tourist attraction.” Izzy teased and Echo just rolled her eyes. 

In a small voice, Echo said carefully. “You don’t want to come to Azgeda. Queen Nia doesn’t like outsiders. Azgeda is a harsh landscape with few places suitable for farming. Our animals are vicious and large.” Echo looked up at Izzy. “As a Skaikru you would be killed before you could truly see any of my homeland.”

Izzy wasn’t sure how to respond, just nodded and let Echo shift closer. It was a real good thing that they’d crossed out Azgeda from their travel plans. What Izzy couldn’t figure out was why Echo warned her. She and Clarke shared a confused look. 

***

Clarke and Izzy left early the next morning; Anya waking them and glaring at Echo who was curled into Izzy’s side. The pair gathered their things, Izzy leaving the hoodie with Echo, and they were gone into the pre-light of dawn. They headed directly east, Clarke’s idea, before they’d drop slightly south and then head back west. 

The landscape hardly varied as they walked in single file. All green, tons of trees and moss covered rocks. Clarke kept them at a brisk pace for most of the day wanting to be as far from Anya’s group as they could get before sundown. They would have kept marching the whole day but it started to rain; torrential downpour that forced them to take cover or be washed away. 

Their hideaway was a small cave made by a fallen tree, uprooted and the branches catching the debris to make the roof. The girls changed out of their wet clothes and into the only spares they’d found in the backpack. Now dry, they were more than content to huddle, wrapped up in furs and watch the rain come down in comfortable silence. 

The rain didn’t stop until the next morning. Izzy scowled at the muddy ground and practically begged Clarke to let them linger in their dry alcove a bit longer. At least until the conditions weren’t as sloppy as they were. Izzy detested the clingy mud and how the rain made everything smell different and musty. 

Clarke refused and they set off again into the forest. They didn’t get too far before coming upon a curious scene. One that made their brows furl. Echo was sitting on log that had fallen across their trail. The Azgeda woman had a smug, triumphant look upon her face. 

“Told you we should have waited longer under the tree.” Izzy muttered. 

Clarke ignored her and focused on Echo instead. “Why are you here, Echo?” Clarke demanded to know of the young woman still wearing the black hoodie; whatever the graphic on the front had long since faded away. 

“I decided that I wasn’t going to return to Azgeda.” Echo announced. The skepticism was strong with Clarke and Izzy upon hearing that statement. “My queen will see my capture as weakness and won’t be pleased with me having been saved, by Trikru no less. So I decided to join you two. I know you aren’t going to Azgeda and aren’t likely to stay in Trikru for much longer.”

Izzy frowned and pulled Clarke back a few steps, whispering softly. “I don’t trust her.” Izzy stated firmly. Clarke rolled her eyes as if to say that was a given. “What do we do?”  
Clarke let slip a fugitive glance at Echo before saying, “I don’t know.”

“I will follow you no matter.” Echo called out suddenly. “I can track you wherever you go. I’m a good hunter and I know how to fight and I can teach you our language. How good of fighters are the Skaikru?”  
Izzy frowned, glaring at Echo and whispered to Clarke. “I feel this is the moment to quote Admiral Ackbar.” The remark got a smack from Clarke upside Izzy’s head. 

***

Traveling with Echo wasn’t the worst thing, Izzy found. Echo was knowledgeable and was a good teacher. Certainly the most patient that Izzy had ever encountered.

Echo had determined their first order of business was to decide what exactly their plan was going to be. Winter was coming on quickly, first snow fall was only a couple of weeks away and snow, she said, complicated everything and things were going to get colder. It was hard to travel in, making conditions treacherous with slush, sleet and ice as well snow drifts. 

Even the cold, itself, was a danger brining sickness and outright death of left exposed to its frigid embrace. As Echo was literally from a land of snow and ice, she was well versed in how to survive. She knew tricks that she was willing to teach Clarke and Izzy. 

“Okay, then, Echo.” Clarke had said the first night Echo was with them. They were huddled under a quickly made lean-to against the side of a larger tree, their fire a small one that still kept them warm without burning their shelter down around their ears. “What do you suggest we do?”

Izzy wasn’t sure she liked the grin that Echo gave Clarke in return. It was devious. Spoke of untold plans that, Izzy was sure, left her and Clarke three or four steps behind. 

“First, we need to hunt. Collect furs, meat, bone and so forth. Those are not only useful things to us but tradable items as well.” Echo explained. “There is a Trikru village just a bit further east of here, they are a small trade center, on the way between Floukru’s capital and Polis when they come overland instead of by boat.”

Izzy frowned. “But…won’t they dislike us on sight?” Izzy asked. “Given how word spreads around down here, I’m pretty sure they’re going to shoot arrows first and ask questions later.” Clarke nodded and pointed at Izzy in agreement. 

Echo sighed and nodded slowly, as if she were dealing with children. “Then we make you look like part of the clans.” She stated simply and frowned at Clarke. “We’ll have to do something about your hair. There are not many with that color of hair, too bright. We can use berries or certain plants I think grow around here to dye it or you can wear a hood. For this one, we can just braid your hair in clan fashion.” She jerked her chin at Izzy. “Then, when we get there, you’ll let me do the talking.”

Izzy wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with Echo having that much control when neither she nor Clarke understood what she was saying. “Or, you can teach us in the meantime.” Izzy countered. “I catch on pretty quick.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Clarke gave a sharp nod of approval and ended all argument to the contrary. “Should we keep a watch?” she pondered, yawning as she looked upwards. The sound of rain could be heard outside. 

***

The village of Ord was a lot different from TonDC and Izzy wasn’t sure how to handle that revelation. There was a wall but people were nicer and a little more welcoming. Izzy wondered if that was because they were a trade village and not as close the Mount Weather as TonDC; no constant threat of reapers. 

Echo’s health and strength had improved greatly in the two weeks that it took the trio to get to Ord; Clarke and Izzy were doing the heavy lifting while Echo supervised. Not that Clarke and Izzy could complain though the work was hard when they had noticed marked differences in their hunting skills. They were both still iffy on how well they were fighting as Clarke hadn’t let Echo spar with them, only shouting orders from the sidelines. 

Izzy watched her best friend as the clingy baby fat melted from around Clarke’s features. She wasn’t sure which task was more labor intensive. The hunting and trapping, the building of special shelters to cure the meat or to tan the hides or actually dealing with the curing. 

Echo had showed them an easy method of caring for the pelts. Easier than how Anya had dealt with the wolves; Echo merely scoffed when Clarke had asked if they were going to work the furs the same way the Trikru general had. Instead, Echo had merely found a tree with a reddish bark that ooze a bright neon yellow sap that burned to the touch. 

She collected the sap into a crudely craved bowl after using a knapped sharp stone to open a wound in the tree, the sap a defense measure. Into the puddle of sap, Echo then sprinkled wood ash and a ground up purple flower that had a similar stank as unwashed teenaged boy. The smell brought to mind the drop ship and the odors that clung to the metal walls a just a few days after landing. 

This mixture was then poured over the fleshy side of the hides and spread carefully; the hides left in a shelter to protect from the rain. Any large drops moisture would cause the sap to react badly and catch fire. Izzy tucked that away under disturbing ways that Echo could possible murder them. 

Before entering the village, Echo had made Izzy and Clarke look like grounders. Mostly fur cloaks to hide their jackets, which Izzy liked because she was starting to believe that being warm was myth, and their hair was braided after Echo had used charcoal on Clarke’s hair. Their backpack was stashed away to be collected later and Echo determined them to be ready. 

The first thing they noticed about Ord was the happy mood. Izzy hadn’t realized that anybody on the ground knew how to smile, a genuine smile that wasn’t forced or so fake Izzy sworn it’d stolen it from Jaha. Everyone in the market, more or less, was smiling and being gleeful. 

“I feel like cartoon bluebirds should be swooping down upon this place and that people should be breaking out into song.” Izzy muttered to Clarke as she repositioned the heavy pack slung over her shoulders. Clarke looked strange with dark hair. 

Clarke frowned at Izzy. “Don’t you know that swooping is bad?” Clarke sounded serious. “Besides, don’t jinx it, this places is giving me the creeps. It’s as if we’ve stepped into an alternate universe.”

Izzy’s response was cut off by a sharp look from Echo. With a sigh, Izzy meekly followed the woman to the chosen vendors making Clarke go first so that she wasn’t left behind. Clarke was gawking at the environment around them.


	4. Leaving Trikru in the Broad Daylight...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot I was going to leave a note. 
> 
> So, I just wanted to say that you are all amazing. For simple things, like reading, commenting and leaving kudos. Look at you, you badasses, being badass and making someone's day. 
> 
> I also wanted to address something. Normally, I would ignore the less kind comments but I've gotten more than one. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions but that doesn't meant that opinion has to affect me. However, I felt compelled in this situation. 
> 
> Firstly, I understand that some people just don't like original characters. That's alright, but remember, at the start of a new story all characters are original characters. That being said, here are a few tells that should have warned those of you who don't like OCs that this was a story about an OC. 
> 
> I would like to point out the name of this story. Now, I personally, do not always look at the title when I'm skimming. I mostly look at the summaries because I find they tell me what the story is about. The name of this story is THE RIGHT HAND OF WANHEDA. One would assume this story would then be about Clarke's right hand person. I could be wrong, interpretation is a strange and personal thing. 
> 
> Secondly, I would like to return to my comment about summaries. When I got the first comment about the dislike of OCs I returned to my summary. I reread it to see if I'd presented false advertising, as I myself, really hate that. It's the shittiest thing to buy a bag of oranges and find out you've been given lemons. Upon this reread, I found that I had done my job as the author diligently. Once again, interpretation is a strange and personal thing. 
> 
> Thirdly, I would turn attention to my tags. While I am still figuring out the map to tagging land, there's a lot less paint than I thought there would be, I thought I had mentioned that I can only seem to be able to write Original Characters. If one was to check out my other works under my other penname they would find all OCs, as far as the eye could see. 
> 
> Lastly, I would like to apologize to anyone under the misconception that this wasn't about an OC. If you were offended, well, please start at the top of this note and reread to find out why I am not inclined to feel sympathy. Instead, let me direct you to the literal thousands of other stories about Clarke and Lexa. Please, start at the back and work your way forward. It'll take you weeks, enjoy!
> 
> with love, signed, Mmmconfused (but not all the time, I swear).

Izzy was confused. She knew her grasp of trigedasleng was good but wasn’t expert level at any rate. Still, she had no idea what Wanheda meant. Neither did Clarke. 

It had been a true relief to leave Ord as the packs that she and Clarke had packed had been exceedingly heavy; Echo had just grinned and told them it built character. Izzy was sure the indents in her shoulders from the straps weren’t ever going to go away and she swore, no matter how much Echo and Clarke disagreed, that she was shorter too. Begin used as a pack animal had Izzy wishing she had a horse. The massive creatures such as the grounders had, Izzy theorized, could carry that oversized gorilla that had chased Clarke and Lexa and not be bothered.  
Now, the trio, with their new gear ranging from supplies, weapons and new boots, were back at their little lean-to. They’d left some of the dried meat behind to collect later. Izzy was watching Echo helping Clarke braid lengths of rope. 

“Echo,” Izzy asked suddenly. Both girls looked over at her. “What does Wanheda mean? We kept hearing in the village and I think Anya called Clarke that a couple of times.”

Clarke got a curious look. “Yea, I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Echo looked uncomfortable. “It means ‘Commander of Death’.” Echo answered hesitantly. “My people believe that because Clarke slayed the un-killable, that she defeated armies in such great numbers and she was able to bring the dead back to life that she can command dead.” Izzy frowned and wondered just how much of the gossip she and Clarke had missed. “We believe that you take the power from those you kill. Wanheda is someone of great power. To be revered and feared; almost or nearly close to the same level of respect as Heda, herself.” Clarke became pale at the explanation

Izzy wished she would have asked Echo in private. Especially when Clarke’s hollow blue eyes looked to her and Clarke asked, “Izzy, how many people were in the mountain when I pulled the lever?” those cold blue eyes snapped up and glared at Izzy when the girl didn’t answer. “I know you know! You would have looked before you destroy the place.” There was malice in Clarke’s tone that made Izzy flinch. 

“Three hundred and eighty one.” Izzy answered despondently. She refused to think of how she knew that number.

Clarke scrambled out of the shelter to throw up on the frozen ground. The sounds of her heaving body and the splatter of sick on the ground brought tears to Izzy’s eyes. Slowly Izzy followed her friend outside, kneeling in the mud beside her to gently rub at her back and pull some of the lose hair out Clarke face. 

“I’m sorry.” Izzy muttered when Clarke pushed up to her knees, spitting out bile from her mouth. 

Clarke shook her head. “Wasn’t you who turned you’re back on us. It wasn’t you who forced us into the situation where I had no choice but to pull the lever to save our people.” Clarke’s tone was harsh. Izzy had a feeling that the resentment over Mount Weather wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. 

“I could have fought harder.” Izzy offered. “I could have fought my way too them instead of kneecapping Wallace.”

Clarke shook her head. “I bear the burden so you don’t have too.” It was a mantra that Izzy had heard from Clarke before. 

“You ever think that the grounders, the mountain men and those from the sky aren’t capable of humane acts because we forgot what it means to be human?” Izzy asked, ignoring the frozen ground on her butt as she sat back. “The Ark said that we were the last of humanity and thus, everything they did was justified for survival. Including jailing children and shoving people into space for any crime. You know, I’m not even sure if we held trials in space. The Mountain thought everyone else was savages.”

They sat, shivering in the cold for a long while as Clarke looked up at the clear and starry sky. “If you could go back to being a kid, to be innocent, would you?” Clarke asked, her eyes still hollow.

Izzy shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t want to go back. Not all of us were innocent, Clarke, just ignorant.”

Clarke frowned. “Wouldn’t you want to see your father again?” Clarke asked, that being her one wish. “I would. I’d run to him, beg him to find another way or maybe, ignorance is bliss.” 

Izzy shook her head and Clarke’s frown deepened. “No, I wouldn’t.” Izzy repeated, the emptiness that had faded since she’d found Clarke was back. It burned colder in her chest than the air did upon her cheek; if there one adult Izzy would want back in her life it would be Callie Cartwig. “In all honestly, my father was already gone before he died. He changed after my mother was floated. Clarke, he pulled away and he was so disappointed in me when I went the Sky Box. It hurt when I learned that he’d died and that I…we had failed him and the others. I was angry that I would never get to see him again but I think I’d already mourned him. It was almost relief that I didn’t have to be worried for him anymore. Sounds shitty, don’t it, to feel that way?” 

Clarke shook her head. “You should never feel bad for what you feel, Izzy.” She said, now staring up at the darkening sky. A small blinking light could already be seen. The control ring that had once held the Ark. “We’ve all got our demons.”

Izzy nodded, looking up too, failing to suppress a shiver as the cold seeped through her clothes. “That is true.” Izzy scowled then. “You know, we’d been here for fifty two days before Mount Weather fell.”  
Izzy looked to Clarke. “A grand total of fifty two days of fear, death and chaos. How does a person even being to process that?”

“I don’t know.” Clarke admitted, running hers hands over her prickling arms. “We should get back inside though. Before Echo thinks we’ve frozen to death or before we do freeze to death.”

Echo never mentioned Clarke and Izzy’s little trek out of their shelter. Never mentioned if she’d listened in on the conversation. She’d been busy braiding on Clarke’s rope when the girls had returned. 

A trend started that night, when Clarke woke screaming from her dreams. Instead of popping right out of the dreamscape, the place lingered in Clarke’s waking mind. She fought and yelled after Echo had woke her; Izzy’s fear of being stabbed by Clarke was still there but Echo was quicker than Izzy. When Clarke was calm, she became sandwiched between Izzy and Echo in a tight embrace to make her feel safe. 

***

Clarke’s mood improved when the first snowfall of the year came. The group had started west because Clarke wanted to be as far as she could get from Polis and the green eyed Commander who lived there. Izzy’s only worry was that hint of winter that Echo had been prepping them for and what they’d do when it finally hit. 

They had just stopped to rest, having been walking all morning under grey skies, when the large and fluffy flakes drifted down to the ground. The forest around them was silent but not scary as it had been with the wolves. Lingering on the air was hint of cold but with a taste of freshness that not even rain held. 

Izzy and Clarke were mesmerized by the flakes. Their faces turned up the sky and letting the little flecks of chilliness land on them to quickly melt away. This was peace, Izzy decided. The world was shrouded but beautiful. Still but moving.

Echo finally prodded the girls into moving again as the ground started to accumulate a clean white blanket. They still needed to find shelter and pray the storm didn’t have much staying power. Izzy followed along the other two, musing to herself, that the prettiest of things could be the most dangerous; snow and Echo being her examples. 

A week passed. The snow not getting any deeper than the Izzy’s ankle. It stayed crunchy where it’d yet to be packed down; going from the sound a dehydrated fruit bar sounded like when bitten into to a bitter sound that Izzy couldn’t place. 

Echo promised that Izzy and Clarke’s fascination with the snow would end quickly. They would come to hate it more than they would every hated anything. Echo was wrong, Izzy decided, because what Izzy and Clarke came to hate was the cold. 

When the clouds vanished and the nights became unbearable. The trio would huddle together under their combined furs in their makeshift shelter, a fire going, and would still be shiver; Echo getting the middle as she was the thinnest and got cold the easiest. Izzy despised the days were the sun was out, shiningly, and it would still be frigid. She determined that the sun was a liar, a cruel trickster. 

Though, Izzy’s miserable mutterings about the weather were quickly forgotten when they reached Niylah’s trading post. A small building in the literal middle of nowhere on the route between Azgeda and TonDC. Izzy couldn’t help but think that it was the dumbest place to put a trading post. Even Echo agreed. Azgeda hated Trikru, and were more likely to trade with Rockline, Lake People or Blue Cliff than they were Trikru. 

However, it wasn’t the location of the business that was the problem. It was the lingering Trikru gona outside of the post watching over several horses that was; they recognized him as one of the guards that’d been with Anya heading north. Clarke wanted to avoid the trading post but they couldn’t afford too. There were supplies that they need and a bundle of small furs that was useless to them unless they were sown together. 

Clarke had a plan. She and Izzy would head into the trading post and Echo would skirt around with what excess gear she could carry. Anya, if she was there, already knew that Izzy and Clarke were traveling together; either one of them going in alone would be questioned. Izzy worried about this plan because it would be the perfect opportunity for Echo to leave them. 

***

Izzy grinned dumbly as she followed Clarke into the trading post. The building was warmed by a nicely crackling fire in a stone hearth. That feeling of being all-around warm was almost foreign to Izzy; for a moment Izzy imagined herself being one of those domesticated, hefty housecats in the shows she used to watch who’d curl up in front of the fire. Izzy wished she could purr, almost as strange a thought as her having phantom sensations of a thumb being on her foot sort of like a monkey. 

She was pulled out of her musings by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Clarke. While Izzy had been staring longingly at the fire, happy that nobody could read her mind, Clarke had been greeted by a cheerful blonde woman and glared at by Anya. The presence of Anya meant they could only talk in English, a suggestion that Echo gave, so they would overhear anything useful; Echo told them that it was interesting the things people say when they think someone can’t understand them. 

“The lost Skaigadas have finally turned up.” Anya smirked, unkindly. 

Before Clarke could stop her, Izzy responded. “Oh, look Clarke, it’s the elusive Trikru general. I wonder what alliance she broke to be here…” Izzy grunted and was nearly doubled over when Clarke’s elbow caught her a second. “I’m good!” Izzy grunted, mostly to herself.

Anya came off the stool she’d been sitting. “Watch yourself, girl, I can make you disappear. Heda would believe me when I tell her there was no sign of you.”

“Just like you lot at the end of the assault of Mount Weather?” Izzy muttered loudly, winching, she hadn’t meant to say that. 

Clarke glared at her friend. “Enough, Izzy. If you can’t be civil you can wait outside, understood?” Izzy nodded as she stood back up straight, her jaw clenched shut to anymore from spilling out. “Are you Niylah?” Clarke smiled at the girl behind the counter. 

“Sha, yes.” The girl now know was Niylah nodded. “Are you here to trade?” 

Clarke nodded and motioned for Izzy to follow her to the counter. “Sha mean yes?” Clarke asked hesitantly, playing into their uneducated guise. Niylah nodded as Anya scoffed. “Oh, then yes, we’ve things to trade. Small furs and such.”

“What are you hoping trade for?” Niylah asked

Izzy couldn’t stop herself. “Anya a new personality. Preferably one with a sense of humor and big picture thinking…crap…again, that wasn’t supposed to an out loud thought.” Before Clarke had a chance to reprimand her, Izzy sighed and turned for the door. There was just something about Anya that dug at Izzy the wrong way. “I was a bad puppy, I know. I’ll be outside, give a shout if you need me.”

Later, when Clarke finally came out of trading post Izzy kept her eyes adverted. Their two crudely made bags had been refilled. Clarke just shoved one the bag at Izzy and kept walking but then stopped. Izzy watched Clarke curiously as she started looking around. 

“Where’s the guard?” Clarke asked lowly, to keep her voice from carrying. 

Izzy grinned. “Oh, don’t worry about him. He’s a little tied up with the horses at the moment.” She jerked her head towards the corral. Izzy wished she could take credit for taking the warrior out but she couldn’t, it was Echo. She’d snuck in, took the guy out and then left with a cheeky wink. “Don’t worry about it, just keep walking.”

With a pointed look from Izzy, Clarke just nodded and started just walking. Echo meet up with them just out of view of the trading post and helped them cover their tracks to stealthy get away. Echo just chuckled when Clarke asked why the warrior had been tied up, she never responded.

***

When Echo finally made Clarke stop her purposeful march out of Trikru territory, Izzy finally got to learn what had happened after she’d shown herself out the door. Once again they were in a quickly made lean-to but with blanket lined furs to cover them. Munching on foods that were more than late season berries or dried meat. Izzy was officially in love with apples. 

“Well, first off, you really need to start watching your mouth, Isabel.” Clarke chastised with a glare. “The only thing staying Anya’s hand from slitting your throat was the peace that Heda had declared between the Coalition and Skaikru.” That got Izzy and Echo’s attention. 

Echo frowned. “Heda made peace?” she asked and then shook her head. “My queen will not like this. No offense but Skaikru are outsiders. Invaders who are too much like Maun-de.”

Izzy nodded along. That was diatribe that The 100 had gotten used to hearing just before they were attacked. Granted, it was undeserved until they’d burned down a village with Raven’s flares because Bellamy was a guilty, self-severing asshole. Then everything had just gone downhill from there. 

Clarke merely shrugged. “I was just as surprised to hear this news as you guys. Seriously thought that the last thing Heda would want to do is deal with people that were not her own.” Izzy saw the anger that burned in Clarke’s eyes. “Would have thought she would have left Camp Jaha alone, having expected us to die inside that damnable mountain but no,” Clarke drew out that last word and sneered at their campfire. “She has to decide that, finally, our people are worth helping. I can understand taking the deal to save her people but, my god, why did she have to honor that one? She could have broken that deal and come back to help us. She betrayed me!”

Izzy could see this was going to turn sour quickly. “So, does this mean that Camp Jaha is safe and well fed for the winter?”

Clarke shook her head clear before she nodded, Izzy wondered if that’d made her a little dizzy. “Yep, and playing host to those displaced villagers of TonDC for the winter. I’m pretty sure that Kane was behind that extended offer of help, turn the other cheek and all that. Callie had said that he was different after The Culling.” Clarke let out a ragged breath and looked over at Echo snuggling into Izzy as if she was her own personal pillow. “The offer of winter goods came before Indra’s people moved to the Skaikru. According to Niylah, they are supposed to start rebuilding TonDC in the spring. Oh…and get this, I’m not the only one with a title.”

Izzy deflated instantly. “Please tell me that Bellamy wasn’t knighted and now runs around wishing to be called ‘Dame Blake’.” Izzy was almost pleading. 

Clarke smirked while Echo looked curious. “I know you know that’s wrong, Izzy. If he was knighted he’d then be called Sir Bellamy. Also, no, he wasn’t given a title. You were.”

Izzy had copied Echo’s curious look perfectly. “Me?” Izzy wanted to know, sure that she hadn’t heard Clarke correctly. “I am The Exile?” 

Clarke shook her head. “No, you are Ait Meika kom Wanheda.”

“Bless you?” Izzy offered with a frown as if Clarke had just sneezed. 

Echo translated, rolling her eyes at the pair. “It means The Right Hand of the Commander of Death.”

Izzy frowned and looked a little repulsed. “But, I’ve heard what you’ve done with that hand!” she cried softly and Clarke not only glared but also blushed. “I like you, Clarke, but not like that! Keep your hands to yourself!”

Echo started laughing, Izzy thought it was one of the greatest sounds she’d ever heard. Izzy felt a strange, pleasant and warm fluttering in her chest as she felt Echo’s body, pressed against hers, move with mirth. She wondered what it would take to hear that laughter more often. To feel that intense fluttering again?

***

That frantic mood that Clarke was broadcasting in her need to leave Trikru behind hadn’t end until they were well into Blue Cliff territory. The tension faded as the weather started an upswing of warming, the snow melted and the hated mud returned. Now that they felt ‘safe’, the trio started to feel happier. 

The happiness ended quickly…with an archery lesson. They were just across the border into Blue Cliff lands. Echo and Izzy were trying to help Clarke better her aim. The target had been a tree. Izzy knew it was bad when Echo whimpered in fear when arrow missed the tree and there was a resulting roar of anger. What Clarke hit instead of her target was the nose of a massive bear that was so dark red that it was almost purple.

The bear glared at Clarke, who dumbly passed the bow to Izzy as if to say Clarke wasn’t to blame. Izzy grunted in protest getting the bow to her stomach, the bear roared, Clarke took off running as if hell itself was after her just after Echo had fervently whispered for them not to move a muscle. That was the first time that Izzy had ever heard Echo swear. 

Things spiraled downwards after that. The bear chasing Clarke, who was weaving through the trees to slow the speedy creature down, with Izzy chasing after Echo who was chasing the bear and firing arrows at its ass. Izzy was close to panicking, the same as when she and Clarke had the wolves. 

Echo got lucky and a shot got the bear in the spine and crippled its hind legs. As it stumbled, Clarke, probably no realizing what had happened with Echo’s shot Izzy decided, had turned to make her final stand. The bear went down and Clarke’s sword went up and was impaled in the bear’s brain via the roof of its mouth; so very Harry Potter. 

The bear died and, just for spite, basically destroyed Clarke’s left arm. Her arm inside its mouth when its head crashed to the ground. Izzy was now panicking. There was blood and Izzy could literally see Clarke’s arm bone. Echo knocked Izzy out with a quick jab to the chin. Watching all of this had been hunters from a nearby village of Vington. 

***

Izzy woke to a gentle but constant prodding of her shoulder. The first thing she noticed was that pain that ran along her jaw, up into her temple and pounded against her skull. Second that she was warm. Near the same kind of warmth she’d felt in Niylah’s trading post. Thirdly was that she was lying on something soft that wasn’t a pile of furs. She peaked an eye open and found an enormous man grinning happily at her and holding out a cup for Izzy to take. 

“Hello, I’m Rento, I’m the chief of Vington.” He greeted her eagerly and held out the cup. “You should drink this, it’ll help with the pain. You’re friend hit you pretty hard. Then we can talk.”

Izzy sat up cautiously. She took the cup and drank it down without question. Either it would kill her and the pain end or he was telling the truth; a win-win situation to Izzy. The taste was horribly sweet and Izzy felt a wave of dizziness pass over her before the pain started to fade. 

When her head cleared and her jaw stopped hurting, Izzy remembered what had happened to Clarke. How the bone was peeking through mauled skin. It had been grotesque and still made Izzy’s stomach roll. She started to panic, looking around for her friends.

“Where are…?” Izzy started but she was cut off by a large hand held up for peace.

Rento was quick to placate her. “They’re fine. Your friend, Clarke, is being seen to by our finest fisa. You are lucky you are in Ouskejonkru lands. With our remedies, your friend will be quickly healed and will keep her arm. Nowhere else in the Kongedakru will you find healing plants as good as ours, I swear upon the Spirit of the Commanders.” Rento boasted proudly. His chest puffed out and Izzy swore it took up half the room. What was in the grounder’s feed, Izzy wondered, to make them so big. “Now, we would have talked to your companion, Echo, as she was the only one of you awake but she said that she couldn’t make decisions for your group.” Rento frowned, looking a little disappointed.

“That’d be Clarke.” Izzy told him, a little worried the big man was going to get teary eyed on her. “She the one who killed the bear and is getting healed.”

Rento nodded. “Yes, that is what Echo told us but Klark will be sleeping for several more days and we…need resolution now.”

Izzy became worried. “Resolution?”

Rento became eager again. “Sha, resolution. We know how you and Wanheda are. Wanheda and her right hand.” Izzy frowned, that had circulated quickly and farther reaching than she’d thought. “And we want your help, Mountains-slayers. Long has Vington and this area been plagued by monsters but it is the only area where our healing flowers grow year round, even in the depths of winter when the heavy snows have fallen.”

Izzy just blinked at the man. He couldn’t be serious. Hadn’t Izzy and Clarke faced enough monsters for one lifetime? Rento frowned as Izzy’s silence lingered. 

“We are desperate…” Izzy stopped him when he stared to call her by her new title. Rento looked a little uncomfortable when she asked him to call her by her name instead, he did agree in the end. “As I  
was saying, Izzy, we are desperate. We were hoping with the news that Maun-de fell then the maunon would stop taking our people but they have not. Their monsters still wander our forests and attack  
our kru. We will do anything if you will help us.” He sounded close to begging. “We will keep secret that you and Wanheda and Echo are here, we will say that you are of our village…born and raised. We will cure your bear fur, no trade in return.”

Izzy paused the man with a hand. “What do you mean that you’ll say we’re from here?”

Rento frowned, his chipper mood darkened. “There are some who will not honor Wanheda or you. They will seek your power for their own. To gain that power they will hunt you and kill you.”

“Well, then.” Izzy really didn’t like the sounds of that. “I tell you what, big guy, I’ll make you a deal. If your healers are as good as they say they are and Clarke is healed, then I will speak in your favor to her.” Izzy was remembering Anya’s promise to talk to her Commander and using something similar. “You can tell me all that you have to offer for this help against the reapers and mountain men.”

Rento frowned, his face drawn in a somber way. “We face not the reapers, Izzy. We face natripa, night killers.”


	5. New Homes...

Clarke looked pale and Izzy felt like a failure. Not as much as she would have if Clarke would have died but Izzy had be useless when the bear had attacked. If not for Echo, Izzy shuddered to think what could have been the outcome. She could only hope that Rento’s hunters would have stepped in to help. 

“Okay,” Clarke said slowly. She was sitting up in her bed, her left arm heavily bandaged. “Just to recap what you just said. We’ve been invited to stay in this village, enticed with several offers that are mindboggling and all we have to do is kill these natripa?” 

Izzy nodded. “Yea,” she said. “That’s pretty much the gist. Clarke, these people are willing to adopt us as their own if we help them.”

“They do seem desperate.” Echo added, she was sitting next to Izzy. “From what I know of them, they do have some of the most sought after healers and tonics in the clans. No one has ever successfully invaded. Rumors of the natripa have even reached far in Azgeda.”

Clarke frowned and chewed at her lip. “And they were willing to send this medicine to Camp Jaha?” Clarke asked and Izzy nodded. The blonde girl sighed heavily. “What do you think, Izzy?”

Izzy sighed heavily. “Pros. We’d have a place to stay for the winter. If the medicine is as good as Rento says, then you’re arm will be back to normal and they would send some of that miracle tea off to Camp Jaha. Also, they would keep us hidden from those who want the power of the titles they’ve given us.” Izzy pointed out, counting off on her fingers what Rento had talked to her about. She let her hands drop back to her lap. “Cons. We’d, once again, be fighting for a cause that we stumbled up on that we hadn’t a hand in making. Risking life and limb in an alliance of sorts, again, by taking up the cross for someone else’s crusade.” There was a bitterness to Izzy’s tone. 

Echo frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”

Izzy started to answer but Clarke stopped her historical rant. “Simply means that we’d be joining a fight that was started by other people.” Izzy mumbled that her explanation would have been better.   
Clarke sighed and then shook her head. “I think that I should talk to Rento. If he and Urka,” Vington’s healer, “are correct, then this would be a big boost for Camp Jaha.”

“Clarke, I go where you go.” Izzy said simply.

Echo sighed heavily, her head lolling back. “We are staying then.” Her statement weighed heavily upon the room. 

***

Izzy had fallen asleep during Clarke’s talk with the village leader. She’d curled up on the floor and exhaustion had finally claimed her. Izzy hadn’t really slept since the night before Clarke’s bear-y exciting archery lesson a week prior. She’d try to sleep but every time she’d closed her eyes to try, all Izzy’s mind would do was show her that moment that Clarke had killed the bear and nearly herself. 

Clarke had been handling the situation remarkably well, all things considering. According to Echo, once Clarke had woken up, she had gone into ‘doctor mode’ (she picked that up from Izzy) and had quickly earned Urka’s respect. The pair of healers bonding over medical jargon of the new world with snippets of the old all while looking over Clarke’s ruined dominate arm. 

When Izzy had woke up, she found that Clarke had struck a dead and Rento looked happy enough to burst into song. In the entire day that Izzy had slept away, Clarke’s healing had showed marked   
improvements. Enough that Clarke decided to take a chance. 

They were given a hut in the village. Their bear skin would be made into clothing for them. Izzy had been made the seken of a warrior woman named Aster while Echo and Clarke floated between the healer’s house and the training rings; at least until Clarke got better, then her focus would be on training. 

Rento had asked many questions of the girls’ abilities and had been worried to find out that they weren’t exactly the warrior the rumors spoke them to be. It’d taken careful explanation on Clarke’s part to explain why they weren’t. Which sort of took the two leaders off topic when Rento wanted to know everything about living in the sky. 

In the end, Rento decided that Izzy and Clarke needed what Vington could teach them. There was no shame, he told Clarke, in the continued pursuit of making oneself better. Either through the study of a new craft or more training in the craft they already had. Izzy figured that was a nice way for him to call them uneducated children, a positive spin on Vington getting falsely advertised goods. 

Izzy meet Aster before she got to see where she and her friends were going to be living. Aster was taller than Izzy. Serious red hair that was shaved at the sides of her head and the rest was put up in a braided Mohawk. There was a curling, vine like tattoo that started just above her ear, where a small bird sat, and grew down her neck with leaves. However, Izzy noticed the woman’s lack of scars like every other grounder, even Echo, sported as if scars were a national pastime. 

Strange blue eyes had racked over Izzy, assessing her, after Aster had led her to the slushy training area the village sported on its outskirts. Then Aster made Izzy show her what she already knew about fighting. Izzy got pummeled into the muddy ground without ever laying a hand on her new fos. 

There hadn’t been a part of Izzy that hadn’t hurt when Aster called an end to her session. Aster seemed pleased, as she gave Izzy a weak but sweet tasting tea to drink, that there weren’t many bad habits she was going to have to break out of Izzy. The younger girl tried not to groan as Aster started to give her a rough outline of what life for the next several months was going to be like for Izzy. 

Mornings started before dawn, always. First thing in the morning was conditioning and working on stamina. Then breakfast with that same tea that Aster had already given her; Aster said that the drink was an important staple of the village. Once breakfast over then they would train no matter what the weather was doing until late afternoon. 

When training was done, they’d perform cool down stretches and drink more tea. After that was tasks around the village that needed completed. Hauling wood for the elderly, clearing the streets of snow if the other warriors hadn’t already completed that task, they would haul wood for the blacksmith or, literally, just about anything. Then, they’d have dinner as a community and drink more tea.

Izzy was dead tired, freshly washed and wearing new clothes when she finally caught back up with Echo and Clarke at their new hut; Aster had escorted the girl there to make sure she didn’t get lost. The hut wasn’t the biggest in the village but it also wasn’t going to claustrophobic with the three girls living there together. It’d belonged to a warrior who’d been killed, recently, fitting the natripa; he hadn’t a family but he was a warrior of renown within the village. 

When Izzy had entered, she’d found Clarke and Echo busy with settling in; arranging sleeping quarters and such. Izzy frowned when she noticed that they’d created three separate sleeping platforms, she’d gotten used to them piling together for warmth. This, Izzy decided, was the true mark of how things had changed.

***

It had only taken the villagers of Vington a week to put together a small wagon train of trade goods headed for Camp Jaha; they were taking skies with them for the wheel in case they ran into snow. With Clarke’s help, the caravan had a believable story put together that had nothing to do Clarke or Izzy; expect Izzy couldn’t quite let that go. She knew the policies of the Ark too well to simply trust in them. 

With Clarke’s permission, because Izzy didn’t want to get caught red-handed like a bad puppy, Izzy got Urka to put together another pouch of the powdered tea mix. Izzy would have to work in what spare downtime she had with the healer but considering the pouch was exclusively for Raven, both Izzy and Clarke considered it fair trade. There was a plan in place. 

They both knew that Clarke’s mom wasn’t going to believe the claims of the Vington apprentices who volunteered to go along. An exchange of healer knowledge, as Clarke’s limited experience had already proved valuable, that included the designs for surgical tools. Izzy wasn’t sure of what all Clarke had plucked from what rumors Rento had repeated to her to make the trip work. 

Instead, Izzy was too busy writing letters to Raven and Octavia. Raven’s let her know how the tea worked and what dosage to use, every day, until she no longer needed her brace. Octavia’s was about what Izzy and Clarke had gotten themselves into and what they’d been up to in the past month or so. Izzy figured that Octavia would be more understanding and not bust out of Camp Jaha to come find them without good reason. At least, that’s what Izzy hoped. 

There was a strange sense of dread that settled over Izzy’s shoulders as she watched the wagons. So many ‘what if’ questions that plagued her thoughts. Many revolved around Abby Griffin showing up to steal Clarke away and keeping Izzy out in the cold. 

Izzy was unsure of many things. How exactly she felt towards Echo; sometimes she felt as if there was something ‘more’ happening between them and other times they barely spoke to each other. She was unsure if she’d told Clarke the truth about not wanting to see her father because she would miss him at the strangest times or would think of something that she wanted to tell him when she saw him next but realized she’d have to die first. Izzy wasn’t sure that tea Aster had been having her drink wasn’t that healing tea of theirs and if it wasn’t actually additive; Izzy swore that if she missed teatime that she felt worse for wear. 

Through all that, Izzy was sure of one thing. Clarke Griffin had earned her trust, respect, loyalty and friendship. While Clarke wasn’t Izzy’s moral compass, Izzy knew right from wrong, life would be bleak without the blonde girl. Darker and just a little harder to get through. Sometimes, Izzy wondered if anyone felt that way about her. If anyone would miss her if she were gone. 

Izzy’s darkened and self-deprecating mood was broken when Clarke gave her a little, playful shove. Today had been their one free day from regularly scheduled tasks. Things around the hut needed tended too, laundry taken to the washers and Izzy had to make an appearance at the healer’s house. 

***

The next few weeks became a blurry to Izzy. They just melted together though she could recollect them perfectly. Echo had been right, Izzy and Clarke came to loath the snow.   
In the week after the trade wagon to Camp Jaha had left, Clarke’s arm got better. Urka put her on light duty. Meant that Clarke still couldn’t train but she could become more involved with helping Urka now that several of her apprentices had left; Echo was grateful for this because it lightened the her workload. While the general population of Vington was amazingly healthy, there were villages close by that came to them for healing. 

Izzy was almost jealous of Clarke and Echo. Sure they worked long hours but at least they got to be indoors. Aster kept Izzy outside for near ninety percent of the day, it always seemed to be snow though it refused to stick to the ground and the cold was punishing. From morning workouts, her crash courses in combat and afternoon chores. Izzy was always soaked through by the time she returned to the hut at night. 

The training sessions, though not on Anya’s level of brutal, were unforgiving just the same. Most Seconds had started their training at the latest, twelve or thirteen. By Izzy’s age they had graduated to warriors. Aster had to pack years of training into weeks as Rento wanted the natripa problem dealt with before the deep snows came at the end of the month, what they considered a moon cycle. 

First came hand to hand combat. Aster was happy to build on what Izzy already had. When Aster felt that Izzy had progressed, being able to defeat another second just a year younger than Izzy, she pushed Izzy onto quarterstaff training with a taciturn fellow named Harlo. By this time, Clarke had been declared fully healed; Izzy was pleasantly surprised that they hadn’t been lied to about the tea’s prowess. Also, it was now Clarke’s turn to personally greet the mud of the training grounds. 

The only time that Echo joined their training was when Izzy graduated to spears and swords. Izzy noticed that a lot of the basics of using the quarterstaff translated over to using a spear but with more stabbing and slashing involved. It was Izzy opinion that Echo was having a great time getting to set Izzy and Clarke on their asses once more. A sport the girl from Azgeda had missed out on for the past several weeks. 

A change to the routine happened, though, when those who’d gone to Camp Jaha returned, minus the apprentices who’d gone to learn. With them, they brought metal bows and arrow heads made from what Izzy would figure was scrap metal, brand new medical tools and Monty’s moonshine (for both pleasure and medicinal purposes). There was also a letter from Octavia and Raven. 

The first few lines was definitely from Raven. They were mixture of Spanish and English, cursing Izzy and Clarke up one side and down the other before telling them that she still loved them. Even if they were perras who’d should be kicked hard in the uterus. The rest was written by Octavia. 

There was a lot that had happened at Camp Jaha in the last few months. For one, it was now called Arkadia; there’d been a vote but she never said what prompted the name change. Everyone had been surprised by the arrival of the Ouskejonkru traders and healer apprentices, Indra and Anya had been suspicious. 

“Wait…” Izzy stopped Clarke there as Clarke was reading the letter out loud. “Why the hell does Anya keep popping up everywhere? In the woods with the stupid wolves. Then at the trading post and now at Camp…err…Arkadia. What is her damn deal?”

Clarke sighed heavily and shook her head. “Bad luck?”

“Hers or ours?” Izzy wanted to know and Clarke snorted back her amusement. 

With a shrug of her shoulders, Clarke offered, “Maybe she’s just Heda’s go-to person to get things done or Anya is getting dumped on epically.” 

Izzy nodded, knowing just how much Anya loved interacting with Skaikru. “Continue, Simba.” 

Clarke faltered. “How am I Simba?” she wanted to know. “The boy lion!” 

“Well, your dad was a great leader. He was betrayed and murdered by a man he considered his brother.” Izzy started ticking off her reasoning on her fingers. “You were cast out of the pride into isolation. Seriously, though, you can’t tell me that Monty and Jasper wouldn’t fit in the roles of Timon and Pumbaa; Monty could be Timon and Jasper could be lamenting when he was a young warthog. Hakuna Matata is totally their theme song.” Clarke was grinning as she thought about the duo in question. “When returned to the pride, you took over even though that’s not what you set out to do. So, you Simba.”

“Does that make you Rafiki?” Clarke asked. She decided that Izzy made to strong of a case to argue and wanted to turn the tables. 

Izzy nodded. “Damned straight!” Izzy chuckled as she gently slapped their tabletop. “I’d make a good monkey filled with nonsensical wisdom that just happens to make sense if you muddle through the bullshit.” Izzy grinned and whispered dramatically. “Remember who you are…” she wiggled her fingers at Clarke. “Besides, Rafiki means friend.”

Clarke wasn’t about to ask how Izzy knew that; though she was curious to know just how many books Izzy had read and how many videos she’d watched whilst still on the Ark. With a shake of her head, Clarke returned to the letter. Took a few seconds to find where she’d left off in Octavia’s scrawl. 

Izzy and Clarke hadn’t been wrong about Dr. Griffin sequestering all of the healing tea gifted to them to the med-bay for extensive testing. It was only their letter that had convinced Raven to even try the stuff behind her doctor’s back. In the short time that the Vingtonkru had been there, Raven was already seeing improvements. 

Clarke stopped reading and frowned. Then she started laughing. “It would seem that our dear black bird has met her match.” She announced and looked up at a curious Izzy. “In, of all people, freaking Anya. You’re right, that woman’s everywhere. Octavia says that Raven’s made it her personal mission to annoy that woman; also, Octavia gives it another month before Raven and Anya hook up.”

Izzy was disturbed by this. “I’m not sure if this is a good thing or bad. Would their combined sass be enough to tear a hole in the space-time continuum?” Izzy was seriously considering the options. “I’m almost rooting for Wick, stupid engineer.” 

Clarke chuckled and then went back to the letter. She frowned as she read on, silently. Lexa had visited Arkadia. There was a kill-order on Lincoln, the first that Izzy and Clarke had heard of this, which put the original grounder in a precarious position. If he left the camp then any of the TonDC residents housed there could kill him by Coalition law. Inside the camp, he had to adhere to the Skaikru side of the compound. 

“Fucking Lexa!” Clarke threw up her hands and threw herself back in her chair. “She’s not going to be happy until she fucks over everyone.” 

Izzy frowned. “You know, we really haven’t talked about that night.” 

“What’s there to talk about?” Clarke demanded darkly. “We got screwed over and I got put in the position to kill hundreds.”

What is was about to say scared her but she felt it was needed. “Clarke,” she said hesitantly, “can we actually talk about that night? Break down what happened and everything? I need to sort it out in my head, ya know. I’ve been thinking about it all but I can’t see the whole board.” That was sort of a lie, Izzy was more than happy to pretend that night never happened. However, Clarke’s random snapping over the subject was getting out of hand. 

Clarke growled lowly and after a long while, she nodded. “Fine, sort away.”

Izzy bit at her lower lip. “From the beginning when Lexa walked away, did she get the better deal?” Izzy wanted to know. “Was just saving her people a bigger goal than eliminating Maun-de? Was that deal worth taking?”

“She thought it was.” The blonde girl scowled. Her arms folded tightly across her chest. “She said she made her decision with her head and not her heart. That she was doing what was best for her people.”

Izzy raised an eyebrow. “Why would she have used her heart?” 

Clarke’s head snapped away. “Because she kissed me and I thought we’d connected on, like, an emotional level.”

“You and Grounder Barbie?” Izzy wasn’t exactly surprised. 

Clarke and Lexa had spent an awfully large amount of time together before the assault had happened. Even Anya had complained about Lexa’s choice of company. Now, that Izzy looked back, she could say there was a lot of heart-eyes cropping up when they thought nobody was looking. 

“Yeah, her.” Clarke sneered. “Just before the attack on the mountain. It was right after Finn and in the short amount of time that we spent together, she was just so intense. We just sort of clicked. Kissing her was like everything that sappy authors had ever written; fireworks, wanting to pop the foot up and just, the whole world faded away.” Clarke growled under breathe and hissed lowly. “Still makes her a bitch.”

Izzy agreed but said anyways, “yes, but a bitch that you liked. Did you kiss her back?”

Large tears rolled down Clarke’s cheeks. “Yea, I did.”

Realization clicked. “You’re mad because you don’t know if she meant the kiss or she was playing you?” It was a question but Izzy already knew the answer. “You think she’s capable of that kind of manipulation?”

“She told me that love is weakness, Izzy.” Clarke stated flatly. 

Izzy thought that was cold. “As your best friend, the best Rafiki, I say that we should spit in her face the next time we see her. If ever, not likely but still. Cause that right there is just cruel. To give you leadership lessons.” Those had annoyed Izzy when she heard Lexa give them to Clarke. “To kiss you and cause mini-fireworks to go off in your head and then just walk away like you’re nothing. That’s…that’s….well, I have no words for that is. Should kick her in the shins at the very least. We could find eggs and like, egg her horse…or is that animal cruelty? Shit, forget that, we should egg her tent!”

Clarke giggled. “I like that idea, lots of eggs if the weather ever warms up and makes the eggs gross. Maybe hid fish around her furs too. It’s because of her that I did what I did.”

“Okay, easy there, Rambo.” Izzy frowned at the maliciousness that’d been in Clarke’s declaration. “Clarke…I think you need to take a step back, baby girl. I mean, you have to give credit where credit is due.”

Clarke turned cold. “What does that mean?”

“But just… Clarke. Lexa didn’t make you do anything!” Izzy countered. “She didn’t put a gun to your head and make you pull that lever. We had five options, Clarke.”

Clarke’s eyes blazed. “Tread carefully, friend, or you’re going to be a dead monkey.”

Izzy gulped hard and continued. “We could have walked away that night, you and I, like Lexa did.” Once again Izzy was ticking a list off on her fingers. “We could have let our people die for the sake of the mountain men and only got Octavia, Monty, Bellamy, maybe Jasper, you and me out; we could have let sixty some people die vs. that three hundred and some.” Izzy had the urge to run away and hide as she held up her two fingers, the third hesitating. “We could have tried to fight our way to the drilling room. It is likely that people would have died from radiation anyways with the opening and closing of doors. Also likely that we all would have been killed in the attempt because we were outnumbered and outgunned.” Clarke glower was still dangerous. “Cage could have agreed to a different path for his people to reach the ground through the donation of bone marrow, willing donations. He didn’t have to take it from our people. It would have been the path of least resistance.” Clarke had tears streaming down her cheeks. “However, Cage only left us with one way to go, Clarke. I was there too, remember? I’m the one who took a floating sludge hammer to Dante. He told his son to ‘stay the course’. I’m…I’m not trying to downplay what you feel, Clarke. You’ve the right to feel what you’re feeling. I’m just saying, hate the right asshole for the right things.”

Clarke didn’t say anything, her teeth were clenched to tightly. She merely stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. When she marched out of the hut, Clarke accidently shoulder checked Echo,   
who was coming in; Clarke didn’t even apologize.

“What is her problem?” Echo demanded, a stack of cups in one hand and a water skin in the other. 

Izzy frowned, wondering if she’d pushed too much. “We were talking about Maun-de and Octavia’s letter.” Izzy confessed and hadn’t realized she was crying until Echo had wiped her tears away with free hands; her bounty set on the table. 

“You shouldn’t waste your tears on them.” Echo told her stern, taking a seat next to her. 

Izzy rubbed furiously at her cheeks. “I’m not crying for them.” She admitted. “I’m crying for Clarke. She’s so mad and I’m not sure if she realized who exactly she’s mad at; herself, Heda or Maun-de. I’m not sure if she’s wanting to blame Heda for everything because Heda broke our alliance, if she wants justification for killing them all or forgiveness?”

“What do you feel?” Echo wanted to know. She was holding Izzy’s hand.

Izzy’s brow furled as she thought about the question. Should have been a simple answer for a simple phrase but Izzy wasn’t sure. The numbness was still there but other, muddled, emotions too. Again, Izzy wanted nothing to do with that night.

“I feel…betrayed. There was never a choice, such as Indra gave Octavia to follow Indra’s people out of the tunnels. Anya cast me aside. I mean, we both knew who I was going to choose but it would have been nice to have the option.” Izzy confessed darkly. 

Echo nodded slowly. “I think that both you and Clarke had a lot of healing left to do. Your souls are hurt. Maybe being here in Vington will help with that?” Echo offered and then smiled at Izzy. “Enough of dark talks. Drink your tea. It will help you grow strong and not get sick with the incoming storm.”

Izzy didn’t protest as Echo started to pour the tea. She was prayed to the only thing she’d ever really prayed to before, Mama Kane’s little tree, that she hadn’t ruined her friendship with Clarke. Izzy had no idea what she was doing when it came to dealing with emotions. She wished she could talk to Callie; Callie would know what to say.


	6. The Ghosts in the Darkness

Izzy was nervous. The crash course lessons were over and Rento determined it was time for Clarke and Izzy to live up to their reputations. They were about to become Panther Hunters of Vington.   
Clarke hadn’t been surprised by this declaration. She, Izzy and Echo had been in Vington for two months, been gone three months from Camp Jaha and to Izzy that felt like a lifetime. The distance, training and fights with the deep snows had softened the anger that Izzy felt towards what they’d left behind. Clarke’s lingered but so did her broken heart; there was just some wounds that needed closure, not time, to heal. 

At the current moment, Clarke was with Urka at the healer’s house. She was putting together last minute supplies for their hunter’s trails. In order to be considered a Hunter of Vington, Seconds had to traverse alone into the forest and kill a panther. 

The woods around Vington were overrun with the killer cats. Before the bombs had fallen, panthers were deadly. Called the ‘ghosts of the forests’. These supreme hunters were fast, cunning and lethal. Izzy was pretty sure that the radiation hadn’t taken any of that from them. 

Except maybe the one that they’d first encountered upon landing. Must have been a defective cat that had given up on life, Izzy decided, as it had charged at a group of humans instead of stalking and ambushing as Aster had explained. Panthers liked dropping from the trees or leaping out from the bushes.

Izzy was going over everything that Aster and the other hunters had told her. She was supposed to be getting ready. The armor of the hunters was laid out over her bed. 

“Panthers are known to smell fear, Izzy.” Echo joked from the door.

Izzy looked over and just nodded in response. She, probably one of the only few, understood that there was a difference between knowing and doing. Just because she could remember didn’t mean she had the actual skills. 

Without prompting, Echo started to help Izzy get dressed. It was intimate, something that only lovers or family helped with as Izzy had been told by her former Trikru fos. Izzy’s heart raced as Echo moved into her personal space. That familiar fluttering that Echo caused as in full force. Izzy could hardly remember to breath and every time she did, her nose was filled with that sweet clean scent that was Echo. 

When all buckles were tightened and knives were in place, the two young women stood facing each other. There was a tension between them, or at least, Izzy thought there was. She could practically feel Echo’s quickened breath, warm upon Izzy’s face. Echo’s eyes lingered on Izzy’s lips. Izzy was anxious as she had no idea what she was supposed to do because she’d had never been in this situation before; she’d never been kissed. 

Izzy melted into Echo when Echo surged forward and caught Izzy’s lips with her own. Izzy’s arms quickly wrapping around Echo to keep pulling away from her. For once, Izzy could see what all the fuzz was about and why the other teens on the drop ship had eager to ‘get some’ as Jasper had said. She copied what Echo was doing and fell deeper down the rabbit’s hole. 

When the kiss broke, Echo chuckling when Izzy tried to follow her as she leaned back. Izzy felt like her body was abuzz with energy. There was pleasant tingling in placed that’d never tingled before; Izzy thought that it was a horrible cliché until now. Now, all she cared about was following the tingle and making sure it was Echo who helped. 

“Well,” Izzy muttered, her voice slightly hoarse; her eyes still closed and her thoughts were rushing. “That was…hmm.” She licked her lips to get that taste of Echo again. “You should kiss me again.”

Echo smiled and gently rested her forehead against Izzy’s. “You feel it too?” she asked, voice soft and low. “This…this…” Echo was failing to find the words, Izzy opened her eyes to look at her. 

“This strange sense of complete comfort when we’re around each other?” Izzy offered and Echo nodded. “That we just fit together and are equally okay with just being together and not talking? You do know I could go on and on, right?”

Echo chuckled and nodded. “I know.” Echo pulled back so she could hold Izzy’s face in her hands, Izzy holding onto her wrists. “I’ve never felt this way about a woman, this deep of emotion.” She confessed, looking deeply troubled. “I’ve faked relationships before because I had too but I just…” Echo let out a shuddering breath. 

“I’ve never been in a relationship.” Izzy confessed. “You are the first person I’ve ever kissed before. Do…do you want a relationship?” Izzy asked, stumbling slightly because she still had no idea of what to do. One wrong move, she felt, and Izzy could fall further into the void of numbness in her chest. 

Echo’s eyes went wide in surprise. “Yes. I do but…” She gulped hard before letting out a shuddering breathe. “I followed you and Clarke so that I could have something to report back to my queen.” Echo confessed, closing her eyes and looked as if she was bracing herself for Izzy’s backlash. 

“We knew.” Izzy admitted, holding on tightly to Echo as Echo looked up, clearly shocked. “Please, you start asking questions like that’s your job and that doesn’t seem suspicious, like, at all? I think you got rusty with them spy skills. Plus, Anya told us.”

Echo gaped at Izzy and gulped as she pulled away; back up so far that she toppled onto Clarke’s bed behind her. Izzy squatted down in front her. It was see to see that Echo was trying to replay every interaction between her, Izzy and Clarke to see if there were clues. Izzy knew they’d been easy to see if Echo had any idea what a comic book was. 

“Why did you let me come with you then?” Echo demanded, tears falling. Izzy cooed and wiped them away.

Clarke answered from the doorway before Izzy could find the words to sooth the girl who’d kissed her. “Because we didn’t want to kill you and, mostly, just to piss off Anya.” Clarke tossed a small pack to Izzy as she moved towards Echo. “Also, that we could determine the narrative if you did leave us for Azgeda. You were recovering and actually teaching us to survive in a more efficient manner. You were judgmental of us like Trikru and you threatened to follow us. Then you grew on us and, if you haven’t noticed…we kind of like you.” Clarke teased. 

“Some of us more than others.” Izzy asked, still trying to get her body under control. Callie was going to have a field day when she heard about this. 

Echo let out a wet chuckle. “Skaikru really are crazy.”

“I’ve been saying that forever.” Izzy muttered as she slid the bag over her shoulders, a hand on Echo’s knee to steady herself. 

Clarke chuckled and said, “Echo. We trust you with our lives. I trust you and more importantly, I see you as one of us.” Clarke smiled as she spoke. “If you ever do go back to your queen, then I trust you will do what you have to, to survive.”

“How can you say that?” Echo demanded, her teary features turned up in anger. “That could get you and Izzy killed! Do you have a death wish?” 

Clarke laid a hand on Echo’s shoulder and told her. “I’d rather you live than die keeping a secret. Besides, now that we both know about each other we can pick and choose what secrets can be told.” Izzy hadn’t heard of this plan before. She couldn’t decide if it was genius or paranoia.

Echo eyebrows went up in shock. “You want to play spymaster? Control secrets as well as death?” she demanded, sharply. “Do you have any idea what that would mean?” Echo was not happy. 

Clarke just grinned. “I have a few ideas, yes, but we’ll have to talk about this later. Izzy and I need to go before the sun sinks any lower.” 

Echo hugged them both, holding on to Izzy a little longer and tighter than she did Clarke and wished them good hunting. She promised Izzy they would talk about what was happening between them when Izzy got back. Echo looked worried as she sat down on her bed, chewing at her bottom lip. Izzy worried about the older girl. It was strange to go from kisses and feelings to talking about lying to royalty.

 

***

“So, you want to talk about it?” Clarke asked, a little smile playing at her lips as she and Izzy walked through the forest. The deep snows having been trapped mostly in the canopy above, letting only enough through to be just above their ankles; they were using their spears as walking sticks. Clarke rolled her eyes when Izzy frowned questioningly at her. “Echo kissed you!” Clarke prodded in a softer tone so her voice wouldn’t carry. 

Izzy shrugged. “Not really much to say, Clarke. She kissed me, it was awesome but I’m still in the dark about what’s happening with us.”

“Yeah, right.” Clarke scoffed. “I know how you look at each other.”

Izzy wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. “Okay, so there are feelings there. Echo did admit to being a spy. I, personally, am relieved. The anxiety over trying to figure this…this….feeling things for Echo out was seriously giving me stomach problems. Or it could have been that stew that Atla made the other night, I don’t think that squirrel was ready for the afterlife.” Izzy frowned as she patted her stomach comfortingly.

Clarke seemed to deflate. “You are like, the least romantic person I know. Which is hard to accomplish because we know Bellamy and Murphy.”

Izzy paused, a quick comeback halted on her tongue. “I thought they hated each other? When did they become a couple?” she guessed they could make a good fit for each other.

Clarke face palmed and seemed to consider not responding. “They aren’t.” Clarke stressed. “I’m saying that neither of them are, ya know, thoughtful or…”

“Emotional?” Izzy supplied and frowned. “I can be thoughtful and emotional. I feel a lot of things when it comes to Echo. She gorgeous, yes. Is she badass and can kick my ass, again, yes. Do I really want to kiss her again and be with her? Hell to the yes. Now, if we want to talk about relationships, we can talk about you and a certain grounder…eh?” 

Clarke glared in return. “I told you that so we could process, not so you could mock me.” 

“Who’s mocking?” Izzy wanted to know. “I seriously want to know, if Grounder Barbie was to throw herself at your feet and apologize, would you be all over that like Monty on chocolate cake?” Clarke looked contemplative after she’d given Izzy a hard shove into a snow bank. 

“I don’t know.” Clarke admitted after Izzy had gotten back to her feet. The rest of their trek was made in silence. 

It was near dark when Clarke and Izzy finally spotted the tree that had a panther’s face carved deeply into the bark. A warning of the animals’ territory ahead. Here, they started to collect tall saplings, cutting away the branches before pushing beyond the marked trees. 

Clarke stopped them at a large tree with thick branches that were dispersed freely, not all clustered together the way the pine trees were. The leaves were gone and gave a clear view to the top of the tree. Under the tree was a small clearing, maybe twenty yards in an irregular oval shape before the forest closed back in on them. 

From the pack, the pair pulled long strips of cloth and a sturdy clay jug. The cloth was warped around the top of the saplings, tied off, before being dipped into the jug. Therein, an oil that’d burn through the night before it devoured the cloth and wood beneath. 

These were staked into the snow in a wide ring to give off as much light as possible as the dark of night full fell around them. Clarke and Izzy ate a hurried dinner as they prepared their bows, staked out arrows and loosened knives in their sheaths. This was the way that all new hunters set up; the panthers around Vington were dangerous and prone to be intelligent near that of a human. They’d been told to expect the unexpected. 

***

Hours passed. The night getting older and colder as the girls waited. Izzy was entertaining herself by watching her breath turn to mist over the scarf was supposed to be wrapped around her face while Clarke was watching the trees. 

They were sitting, back to back resting against each other, on a layer of furs in the middle of the torches, bows still readied. Hardly a word had been spoken since they’d sat down. Izzy’s entertainment was ended when Clarke elbowed her and muttered her name. 

“How many panthers did Aster say normally traveled together?” Clarke asked, her voice strained. 

Izzy frowned. “They are solitary, Clarke. They don’t travel together…” Izzy got a bad feeling. “Why?” 

Clarke’s answer was pretty nonchalant, all things considering. “Because I count two of them in that big tree.”

That bad feeling turned into fear. Izzy froze, her mind blank because none of the hunters had ever mentioned this sort of thing happening before. Panthers were supposed to be loners. Slowly, Izzy got to her knees, careful of the lose arrows beside her. 

“Ugh…quick shots into the trees?” Izzy asked, her voice almost inaudible.

Clarke nodded, getting to her knees as well while staying small and unthreatening. A low growl was heard from the tree. The shiver of fear wiggled its way down Izzy’s back. On Clarke’s count of three,   
Izzy turned towards Clarke’s right, quickly aimed and loosed her arrow. Izzy barely watched as it hit the large cat, the cat grunting before its life fled and its body hit the ground. 

That was all Izzy got to register as she reached for another arrow and she was tackled from behind. A powerful jaw clamped down on Izzy’s shoulder, biting through her armor and coat as she was pushed face first into the frozen ground. Sharp claws digging into her sides and lower back as the panther jerked its head side to side. Izzy screamed through the pain and grunted when a heavy weight collapsed upon top of her. 

Clarke was shouting her name as shoved the large cat off Izzy. Helping her to sit up to assess the damage. Izzy felt light headed and she nearly passed out when she saw that her arm had been dislocated.   
Again Izzy screamed. Not because Clarke had just barely reset her shoulder but because Izzy forced herself to move. Picking up Clarke’s spear and letting the cat that’d been leaping at Clarke’s back to impale itself on the frosty metal and crashed into Izzy and Clarke. The last thing that Izzy remember as she fell back, eyes heavy was Clarke facing off against a panther the color of snow and bluer eyes than Clarke’s; the panther that had smacked into them had been pushed off to the side.

***

Izzy woke slowly, she felt cold and weak; she could feel overly warm spots on her body, the worst was her neck. She was face down on warm furs naked from the waist up with her back exposed to the warm air of the hut. Nearby voices could be identified as Echo, Clarke, Rento and Urka. 

They were talking about blood loss and nasty panther teeth and claws. Great, Izzy thought, she’d been poisoned in some manner. Suddenly, Izzy’s vision was filled with Echo’s worried features, kneeling beside Izzy’s bed.

“How do you feel?” Echo asked, reaching out to tuck away a strand of loose hair. 

Izzy blinked at her and couldn’t really get the gears to working so she could think. “Thirsty?” she offered hoarsely. 

Clarke had arrived then, a cup of tea in her hands. Between her and Echo, Izzy was allowed to drink; getting her to sit up while keeping her modesty. Then Izzy was face down on the furs again, Echo sitting on the floor next to her coat.

“Do you remember what happened?” Echo asked, distracting Izzy while Clarke worked on Izzy’s back. 

Izzy frowned. “Which time?” she wanted to know. Echo failed to suppress her eye roll. “If you’re asking about the panthers, then yes, I remember. The thing tried to eat me.”

“You also saved my life.” Clarke added. She was changing bandages. “You nearly bleed to death into the snow, Izzy, from where the cat had dug into your sides.” Clarke sounded sad. “That last panther refused to go down without a fight.”

Izzy frowned. “It was white right?” she asked. “Or was I imagining that?”

Echo chuckled and shook her head, Clarke stayed quite quiet. “It would seem that Wanheda has done a feat of the impossible again.” Echo teased, her dark eyes flashing up at Clarke. “She found a rare white panther and, while the hunters watched, defeated it in single combat. The last person who accomplished this was the village chief before Rento.”

Izzy grinned. “Clarke, this isn’t a competition, no gamescore for unlocking grounder achievements. Unless you’re telling Bellamy. Then White Panther is worth 200 points.” Izzy couldn’t help but tease. While Echo looked confused, she’d accepted Izzy’s strange comments at this point. 

Clarke just snorted. “I liked you better when you were sleeping.”

For a week, Izzy had remained in the fisa’s house. Her wounds healing quickly to leave only scars behind because of their severity. A beaming Rento had told Izzy to take all the time she needed in healing; mostly because preparations to welcome Clarke and Izzy into their village as official Panther Hunters took time to prepare. 

Izzy had, she thought, recovered without issue. As ever, she slept just fine; not remembering her dreams. Until she got back to the shared hut and found that Echo had taken it upon herself to repair Izzy’s ruined coat. Where the panther had latched on was shredded, both were the teeth and claws had been. Echo had cut the ruined spots away to sew patches on, expertly done too. 

The coat was a visual of just how close Izzy had come to death. Izzy had taken as shuddering breath before sitting down on her bed, hiding her trembling hands in her blankets so that Clarke and Echo didn’t notice them. The other two girls had left Izzy, then, Echo kissing her goodbye as they both chores from Rento to complete.

Izzy had fallen asleep quickly thereafter and found herself back on the Ark in space. She was standing on a lower deck, in Skaikru clothes, looking down at the green and blue earth through a massive window. It looked peaceful and deceptive. 

A noise down the hall caught Izzy’s attention and she found herself moving towards to investigate. She rounded the corner and stopped, frowning. Izzy was now in the messy hall but it certainly hadn’t looked like it did now the last time Izzy had seen it. 

Heda’s antler throne was placed at the center of the room. On it sat a familiar woman in a space suit with no helmet on, she wasn’t Lexa though. No, to name this woman, Izzy had to reach deep in her memory. The black haired woman with a nice tan with dark brown eyes was a woman named Becca. Izzy had read about her, it wasn’t much and had been on Kane’s tablet in highly restricted files when she was staying with Callie. 

Becca had been part of a big corporation on Earth and a scientist. There’d been a brief mention of her as begin listed as a crewmember aboard the Polaris Station, the one that Alpha Station had destroy on Unity Day. There was nothing more than that; everyone on Ark had thought the 13th Station was a myth because there was no information. 

However, if one knew how to do research then there was plenty of information. Such as the fact that Becca’s company had been partnered with the Eligius Corporation; found in old newspapers. A company that sent national prisoners into space to mine asteroids for hythylodium, which Izzy had no idea what the hell that was. What exactly the collaboration had been was unknown to Izzy. Eliguis company files hadn’t been saved by the various stations. 

Becca frowned at Izzy; morose and desperate. Completely ignoring the panther with red eyes that prowled around the throne, leaving dirty paw tracks and darkening the floor with each pass. The darkness started to creep up Becca’s legs. 

“This isn’t what I wanted.” Becca spoke, her voice raspy and low. “My life’s work corrupted.”

Izzy was about to ask what that meant when the panther growled. With all its cat like grace, the panther left the throne and stalked toward Izzy. The girl looked up at Becca for help but Becca was now tied to the throne with bands of dark smoke. Izzy had never seen someone look as helpless and as lost as Becca did; a smoky band formed over Becca’s mouth, silencing the woman as the panther leapt towards Izzy. 

Echo had woken Izzy then. Shaking her awake and held her until the trembling stopped. It was a fact that Izzy either didn’t dream or couldn’t remember them and she certainly never had nightmares. Echo’s look of concern grew as Izzy recounted what she’d dreamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone. Thank you for the comments and kudos; I may not respond sometimes but they do make my day. Even the bad ones because, they read and then took the time to comment. I'm one of those readers who just backs away quietly with no sudden movements when I leave story I don't like. 
> 
> Also, I want to apologize for missing my last posting. I know that it's a schedule that hold myself too. Real life got out of hand for a couple days and when I want to hide from the world I write. Which, in turn, sucks when you've writer's block; getting anything written is a victory.


	7. Natripa...

“Are you sure she was Becca from Polaris Station?” Clarke asked for the fourth time and Izzy growled at her. The blonde girl put up her hands for peace. “Come on, Izzy, you know this is weird. Dreaming of a woman who’s be dead for a hundred years and all you know of her are pilfered tidbits.”

Izzy glared at Clarke for where she was leaning back against the wall that bordered one side of Echo’s bed; all that was keeping Izzy there was Echo’s hand on her knee from where Echo sat next to her.   
For the past however many hours, Izzy had had to repeat her only dream in months several different times. Izzy was close to yelling and walking away. 

Echo was being overprotective and it was sort of making Izzy uneasy, a little overwhelmed and ecstatic all at the same time. The first thing that Echo had done, after Izzy had calmed down had been to declare that Izzy was no longer sleeping alone; she’d even gone as far as to dismantle Izzy’s bedding. Rolling up the furs into a bedroll and shifting Izzy’s favorite blanket to her own bed, where she’d deposited Izzy and told her to stay. 

When Clarke returned from her chores Echo had prodded Izzy into telling Clarke every little detail of her dream. Which had led to questions and repeats and Izzy was ready to stab them both. With dull knives even if she did love them both…which only served to upset Izzy further because she realized that she was falling in love with Echo. 

“Look, I can’t tell you what it means.” Izzy heaved a sigh, liking that Echo hadn’t removed her hand. “That’s just what I dreamed. As for Becca, I read Kane’s files, okay? Then read news feeds and other social media posts.” Izzy blinked at Clarke before asking her, “Do you realize that I read everything I could get my hands on? Except for Callie’s trashy romance novels; she refused to let me because I was too young.” Izzy shook her head. “I mean, honestly, do you know how tedious life can be when you remember everything? I was so freaking bored. In the Sky Box, I was so close to just asking them to float me.” Izzy scowled at the memories that mention brought back. “The most exciting thing to happen in the Sky Box was when I got several cheap shots in on Pike when he tried beating up Murphy on the first day of Earth Skills. I wasn’t allowed back after that first class.” 

Clarke threw up her hands and Izzy leaned into Echo. “Fine!” Clarke cried. She ran her fingers through her messy blonde hair, cascading in waves of gold over her shoulders. “It’s just, an odd dream with specific details.” Clarke admitted. Her fingers twitched slightly and Izzy wondered if Clarke wasn’t feeling the need to draw. “Do you think you can sleep some more?” Clarke asked. “I’ve stuff to make a sleeping tonic if you need.”

Izzy shook her head. She was tired and ready to curl up into Echo’s side as it was. Though it was still early in the night, Rento had asked for all three to meet him at the village’s main meeting hall the next morning. 

***

Izzy had forgotten, in a sense, how much she’d missed waking up next to Echo. Sleeping alone had become her new normal over the past few months. Now, as she came awake to the feeling of Echo’s surprisingly strong arms encasing her and holding her tightly to Echo’s chest, Izzy could only grin. 

Echo grunted in her sleep as Izzy wiggled back into her, shifting so her face was planted against Izzy’s neck; her warm breath coming in puffs. In all her life, Izzy had never understood those gushy, mushy and sickeningly sweet things that people would write and talk about when it came to relationships, until now. Izzy felt better than she had in a very long time. 

“You both are adorable.” Clarke had spoken softly so not to wake Echo, a heavy sleeper at times. “And I hate to do this, but it’s time to get up.”

Izzy sighed and nodded. She waited until Clarke had gone back to the ‘kitchen’ area of the hut, stocking the fire, before she started to wake Echo. Izzy looked over her shoulder and couldn’t help but place a kiss upon Echo’s forehead, as that was the only part of Echo her lips could reach. 

A second kiss roused Echo. Her face scrunching up before her eyes flittered open. They were dull and heavily lidded with sleep. She looked up at Izzy with a confused look. 

“What is it?” Echo asked, her words slightly slurred. Izzy just kissed her again, sighing happily when Echo returned the kiss. 

***

It was February and Izzy thought it should be illegal to be forced outside so early in the morning. There were only so many ways that Izzy could complain about the cold before she was starting to repeat herself; made her wonder if this was the reason the Eskimos had so many different names and words for snow. Both Izzy and Clarke huddled deep down in their coats, glaring at Echo who didn’t appear to feel cold, at all. 

Rento, Aster and several other important leaders in the village were already gathered near a pleasantly roaring fire. As always, Rento was amazingly chipper as he greeted the arriving women. Eagerly waving them over with a smile that nearly split his face in two. 

“Clarke, Izzy, welcome, welcome. This is a great day!” Rento proclaimed and Izzy expected him to start clapping his hands in excitement. “Today we bring you into our society of hunters. First, there is a ceremony where you will take the marks.” Rento frowned then. “This is why Echo declined to become, officially, a hunter.”

Izzy glanced over at the girl who was holding her hand. Echo’s face was set to stoic; a default setting for those born on the ground. No emotions to be seen. So, Izzy shrugged and looked back to Rento, thinking to herself that it would be pretty dumb for a spy to have identifying marks on her body. Something that could give her away or make her noticeable. 

Rento rolled his shoulders and asked, “Shall we begin?” he winked at Clarke, in a teasing way that wasn’t off putting. It was natural, Izzy decided, and she didn’t have to kick Rento between the legs for perv-ing on Clarke. “Good. Now, as the Chief of Vington, I ask who puts forth these Sekens?”

Aster stepped forward. “I do, Chief Rento. I am Aster kom Ouskejonkru, Hunter and warrior to the village of Vington. These two sekens were tested and tried and I say they are ready!” Aster nodded to Izzy and Clarke, giving them a proud look; something Izzy never thought she’d seen on a grounder’s face besides Echo. 

“Upon the word of Aster kom Ouskejonkru, these sekens were tested and tried.” Rento’s booming voice echoed through the empty hall. He looked to the other gathered men and women. “Leaders of Vington, having witnessed their trials and their hunts, what say you? Are they Hunters of Vington? Do they deserve the Tattoos of the Panther?”

The six men and women nodded, speaking as one to say yes. Rento’s beaming smile was near blinding. “Then I welcome Clarke and Izzy as Vingtonkru, and Ouskejonkru if you would like, and grant you your marks of status. The cowls of the Panther Hunters,” he said and Aster stepped forward holding a box.

From the box Rento picked up a cowl that was made from a dark fur, that Izzy was going to say was panther (giving what they were named) and they still had the ears at the top. Rento handed the soft looking cowl to Echo, offering her the chance to place it up on Izzy. Echo quickly dropped Izzy’s hand to accept that honor. The hood was lined with a soft material and fit perfect over Izzy’s shoulders once Echo was done tugging it into place. 

The next cowl out of the box made Izzy’s eyes go wide. Clarke’s cowl was made from the furs of the white panther that she’d killed. It was gorgeous with grey spots that hinted at the jaguar background of the panther. Rento handed this cowl to Urka, the fisa woman subtly wiping away tears as she place the cowl upon her favorite student. Clarke was blushing and was a little watery eyed herself. 

Next, the two new and official hunters were asked to bare their left arms. On the inside of the forearm, just under the elbow, would be tattooed the face of the cat that’d been cut into the tree with two spears cross underneath its chin. The panther and the spears’ design harkened back to before the bombs, though Izzy doubted the artists who were drawing them onto hers and Clarke’s skin with a special soot, knew the knots were considered Celtic. 

When the soot outlines were done, both girls approving and Echo holding each of their hands, the artists went to work with bone tools. Bunch of little prongs at the end, sharpened and dipped in ink to be tapped into the skin with what Izzy hoped was skill. Izzy clung tightly to Echo’s hand, not watching the painful event that was happening to her arm; unable to pull away with Aster holding her arm down, Urka was holding Clarke’s in the same manner. 

***

When the tattoos were done and slathered with oil from the same flower as the tea, Rento led Clarke and Izzy outside where the sun hung low in the sky. The village had gathered before the doors. When Rento held up the girls’ marked arms for them to view, the people went crazy; Izzy felt as if she could get knocked over by the force of the cheers. 

Rento gave the girls a little shove and they were enveloped by the crowd. The celebrating began with games, drinking and a mind boggling amount of dancing. Izzy sat next to Echo at a table just outside of the ring where the dancing was occurring, snuggled into the older girl’s side while they giggled at Clarke. The blonde had been drawn in again for another round of feet stomp as she’d tried to escape. 

“Do you think Clarke’s having fun?” Izzy asked, her eyes bright with drink and she held on to Echo so that she didn’t float away. Echo had taken away her cup when Izzy mentioned that she was scared to walk because she didn’t want to slip in the snow and float back up to the sky. 

Echo grinned. “I think you are having fun, hodnes.” Izzy beamed as she recognized the word as Echo reached out to gently caress Izzy face. “It is strange that I would find my heart in someone who fell from the sky.”

Izzy frowned and pouted. “It’s not fair that you’re…sober…that’s it, enough to-to make statements like that and I’ll probably not remember correctly tomorrow. Drinking messes with…” Izzy frowned, her words vanishing. “I wanna hear those things when I’m sober, Echo, so then I can say them back and-and-and-and you’ll know I’ll mean them because I do. Mean them, I mean. Cause I really like you.” Izzy confessed, slurring her words, and Echo looked amused. “You listen when I ramble and I’m pretty sure that you know when I’m just telling stories at this point. I really like that you can kick my butt because you teach me at the same time and you are so patient.” Izzy had to stop to breathe. 

“What else, hodnes?” Echo asked in a delighted purr. 

Izzy blinked dumbly at the woman who held her heart. “You’re really pretty and I stare at you trying to figure out exactly what shade of brown your eyes are. Also, you’re kinda of a jerk.” 

Echo let out an amused chuckle and then feigned a hurt look. “Why am I a jerk?”

“Because you totally,” that word felt weird in Izzy’s mouth, “has taken advantage of my state.” Izzy quickly leaned up and kissed the pouty look off Echo before whispering, “And if we’d already been together in your furs, I’d insist that you take me there right now but, I don’t want my first time to be while I’m drunk.”

Izzy felt Echo’s breathing catch, a pause, her body stilling before Echo’s lips were suddenly on her own. The kiss was hungry and there were cat calls already around them. Izzy could have cared less as her world only existed with Echo. 

“Aww…” an inebriated Clarke cooed from the other side of their table. The kiss broke and Echo growled at Clarke. “Yous two are adorable! Like two little, fierce and grumpy kitties who only like each other.” Clarke hummed a sigh as she rested her chin in both hands, smiling sleepily. “We should head home. Or!” Clarke suddenly got excited. “We could visit Harlo and Orfo again for more tattoos. That was a weird pain,” Clarke mumbled as she lifted her sleeve to caress her new ink. “I can’t describe it.” she looked up and demanded. “We should do it again so I can describe it!”

Echo led both girls back to their hut them as Izzy had been ready to agree to Clarke’s drunken request. She made them drink freshly brewed Vington Tea and then put them to bed when Clarke started stripping. Echo only joining Izzy once the fire was ready to burn through the night. 

***

Izzy had been incredibly thankful of Vington’s tea the next morning. Echo and Aster had gotten the Skaikru girls up early so they could begin preparations to face the natripa. Izzy almost felt human as she followed behind Echo and Aster, more so because the throbbing in her head was dissipating but getting to view Echo’s backside in her leather hadn’t been harmful either. 

In a small shed near the training grounds, the hunter-warriors of Vington were gathered. Izzy and Clarke were put with the group who were making the tree acid mixture that Echo had taught them. Some of the acid was being poured into small ceramic containers that were seals shut with wax and the heads of arrows and spears were being dipped into the left over mix. 

Across from their station, Echo was helping Aster concoct poisons that would drizzled along the edge of swords and knives. Izzy frowned. She wondered what made the natripa so much worse than the reapers to warrant this type of reception. Then Izzy stopped, a sudden thought occurring to her, that maybe this was a difference between clans. 

Trikru weren’t a fan of poisons, or so Anya had proclaimed. Izzy continued her string of thought by wondering how much easier the reapers would have been to deal with if the grounders would have had their own knock-out substance. Not every situation requires big, rough and gruff warriors, Izzy thought, otherwise Izzy was going to be left out.

Izzy was surprised when Clarke pointed out they’d finished their task. She’d sort of zoned out while they’d worked and that bothered Izzy. The thought that she could have messed up with the acid was a disturbing one and gave her flesh goose-bumps.

She was still feeling that anxiety when Clarke nudged her, Echo and Aster were calling for them. At the back of the shed was the village’s general armory. Just a store of extra weapons as most everyone kept their own weapons either on them or at their homes. 

Izzy frowned when Echo held out a compound bow to her. It had DECK 9, SECTION 3 in fading paint along the limb. These must have been the metal bows that Arkadia had sent. By the way Echo was holding the metal weapons it was clear that she, nor any of the other warriors, were impressed. 

The bow was complicated and strange looking to them. Izzy took the bow, and at Clarke’s gesturing, demonstrated how the bow worked. To Izzy, this would have made more sense when the bows had arrived and not on the day they were getting ready for war. 

Izzy knew that the greatest thing about a compound bow was that once the string was drawn and the rockers were set, a person could keep the bow drawn nearly forever. There wasn’t any resistance trying to force the string forward, thus eliminating muscle tremors. Made for better accuracy and a harder hit over distance. 

As Izzy took her shot, she prayed to the little tree of Vera Kane, that Raven or Wick had done their jobs correctly. If done right, then there would be limited vibrations and there wouldn’t be the threat of the bow exploding. The limbs failing in a cascade of metal shards.

Izzy was just as worried about the arrow too. Back in the day, archers used metal composite arrows or carbon fiber. Wood arrows would work if they were hard wood arrows, much like Vington made. Izzy knew there was more power behind the string of the compound than there was her regular bow. 

There was a massive sense of relief when the bow and arrow worked perfectly and the arrow hit the center of the target after Izzy had held for three or so minutes just to prove a point. Izzy let out a whimper as the arrow wiggled at the impact force it’d hit the target, sinking halfway through. Sometimes, Izzy thought, that Clarke sort of took for granted Izzy’s loyalty. 

Aster still wasn’t impressed. “You can keep that, Rafiki.” The warrior woman teased; Clarke’s new nickname having been picked up by the other hunters once they explained what it meant. “I will stick with tradition. A real hunter doesn’t hesitate.”

Izzy sighed, she hadn’t thought the demonstration was going to change her fos’s mind. Especially after holding the shot as long as she had. Izzy looked to Clarke for help but the blonde just shook her head. Thus, Izzy became stuck with the compound bow; which she was planning to stick under her and Echo’s bed if she could. 

***

Echo caught Izzy trying to ditch the bow. Izzy wasn’t sure that Echo believed it was because it wasn’t a bow that Izzy had practiced with and thus, knew how it was going to shoot. The relationship between the bow and archer, Izzy had been told, was important. Even the best archer couldn’t pick up a random bow and hit every shot. There were minute adjustments that were made just before the arrow was released. 

However, Echo let Izzy tuck the metal bow away under their bed before they started dressing for their journey to the hunting grounds of the natripa. At least, that’s what they meant to do when they’d entered the hut. When Clarke found them, Echo had her hand well up Izzy’s shirt to work on undoing Izzy’s bindings while her mouth plundered Izzy’s. 

Clarke only sniggered at her red-faced friends and Izzy’s unfriendly hand gesture. She stayed with her friends until they were dressed and ready to leave; Clarke having already accomplished while she waited on her friends. Echo didn’t stop Izzy from throwing a snowball at Clarke once they were outside. 

Clarke’s mirth at having caught Echo and Izzy was grating to the pair and it lasted long after the trio and twelve other hunters left Vington. Marching along in single file down a well-trodden path cut through the snow. Izzy made sure that there was several people between her and Clarke, less temptation to stick an arrow in Clarke’s butt cheek. 

The group stopped near early evening when the light started to fade in a ‘safe spot’ as Aster assure them. A cabin that rested outside of the natripa’s territory where the hunters and harvesters of the flowers would stay. It was cramped with fifteen people but they weren’t bound to stay long. 

Just long enough to get warmed up, fed and cots prepared for potential wounded. It worried Izzy that there were so many set aside. She wiggled into Echo’s side as they sat on the floor next to the fire, her hand clutching tightly to Echo’s. 

Then they were moving through the forest again, spread out twenty feet apart in groups of two. Izzy, Echo and Clarke dispersed through the line at Aster’s orders; orders that Izzy truly hated. She understood why, so that the girls wouldn’t be completely focused on each other but on the enemy. 

Izzy bulked when she caught sat of the Natripa they were after, in the failing light of the day; Aster had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop Izzy from crying out at the sight. The natripa were mutated creatures; two of them were ambling towards them down the trial. They stood near eight feet tall, if Izzy hadn’t judged wrong, with cat-like features (ears and long tails included). Their hands and feet were like humans but with claws at the end of the fingers and toes. 

On their skin grew a short, dark coat of fur; almost identical to fur of the hood that covered Izzy’s head. In their mouths were fangs and their eyes were bright green. Over their bodies were makeshift garments; to cover the more private parts. 

Had Aster not been holding Izzy in place, the girl would have turned tail and run away from the mutated cat people. Not once had Rento, Urka, Aster or any other person of the village ever told Izzy or Clarke what the natripa were; if Echo knew, she’d kept it to herself. Izzy hated herself for assuming that natripa were just another version of the reapers. 

Izzy felt her heart stop when an arrow screamed out of the growing dark to strike the first cat person directly in the eye. Should have killed it but the natripa fell and started screaming, tearing at its face; Izzy could see steam wafting up and realized the arrow had been dipped in acid. 

The second creature roared in protest, it echoed through the forest before getting cut short by an arrow to the heart. Around the wound the fur and skin sizzled, acid scrapped off the arrow head as it passed through. The creature gurgled and then crumbled, going boneless and fell to the ground. 

Izzy gulped and then squealed when creatures fell from above them. Aster swore and brought up her spear to let the creature impale itself through the chest. The dead thing pinned Aster to the ground and Izzy fought through her fear to push the creature off her. 

“You should have told us what they were!” Izzy grumbled at Aster, her head snapping around when she heard Clarke cry out. 

Through the dark, Izzy drew an arrow and shot. Barely missed her mark, the arrow lodging in the throat of the natripa that’d just flung Clarke like a rag doll. As its throat burned and dissolved, Echo took its head. Izzy had enough time to watch the cat head fall away before Aster was yelling at her. 

Izzy turned and launched another quick arrow, striking a natripa that was charging Aster just above the hip. The creature when down and Aster put her sword through its eye. Then Izzy was screaming; sharp claws digging into her back before she was picked up and thrown. 

Her breath was taken away when she crashed into a tree; Izzy saw stars but lacked the space station. She didn’t get much time to recover herself before she was scrambling back to her feet, moving out of the away of another natripa intent on murder. As Izzy moved, the creature fell with an arrow through its temple. 

Izzy heard Clarke call to Echo, there was a crash of ceramic and then Izzy heard the most ungodly cry of pain. She curled up and slapped her hands over her ears to block out the noise. Izzy didn’t want to look to see what the cause of the pain was either; she was asking someone to make it stop. Pleading over and over again in a mantra. This was not what she and Clarke signed up for at all.


	8. Dark is the Blood...

Izzy, as commanded, sat still as Clarke slathered a mixture of healing herbs over the gouge marks the natripa had made on Izzy’s shoulder. When the mix dried, Izzy was assured, it would become like a bandage; that would have to be changed before bed and that it would hurt. Izzy wondered if this was punishment for her failing performance and forgetting everything she knew about combat by allowing the natripa to sneak up on her. 

Her ribs had already been wrapped tightly and Clarke had worn a glare as she’d worked. Izzy’s theory had some merit. Five of their hunters had been ripped to pieces and four left bedridden with deep wounds. Those who’d been left without a scratch numbered few, Aster and two of her hunters. Both Echo and Clarke had been left with scrapes, bruises and one burn; Clarke had a blister on her collar bone where a drop of acid had splattered on her when Echo had thrown an acid grenade. 

Izzy had heard all about her failure from Aster just after the fight had ended. The redheaded woman had been irate and had shouted in Izzy’s face. Izzy had been willing to take the yelling if she didn’t have to admit the real reason she’d floundered. She loved the training, loved hunting but fighting, she hated. Izzy didn’t want to have to remember. 

“Here, slip this on.” Clarke broke Izzy’s thoughts and helped the younger girl into a shirt before adding a sling. Adjusting and tightening until Izzy’s hand was firmly against her chest and her arm couldn’t move. “I want you to keep that on until you wound is healed. I would advise no hunting or fighting but I know that if it involves either Echo or myself, you won’t listen.” Clarke glared again as Izzy just nodded. She still had one good hand for either sword or stabby-stabby with a spear. 

Clarke just grunted unhappily and moved on to her next patient; Izzy quickly fumbled into her warmer layers to escape the cold that persisted near the cabin’s door. Outside she found Echo and Aster in deep conversation with the two unharmed hunters. Izzy frowned at them, she thought the hunters had been sent ahead as scouts. Six natripa couldn’t possibly be the whole of their host. 

Echo’s eyes quickly found Izzy, hearing her approaching in the snow. Izzy wanted to hide as she watched her love inspecting her. There was something about Echo’s concern that wreaked havoc upon   
Izzy, something that Clarke’s quiet disapproval never had. 

Izzy fell into the space next to Echo. Quietly waiting for the conversation to continue or for her to be told to leave. Neither came as the hunters left and Aster scowled at her seken. 

“I will make a warrior of you, Rafiki.” Aster proclaimed and then walked off towards the cabin. 

Echo sighed, a noise that Izzy recognized as Echo being disquieted; uncomfortable or worried. She hugged Izzy to her, careful of Izzy’s shoulder. “The hunters found something ahead in the forest.” Echo whispered. “The body of a dead man.”

Izzy wasn’t sure why this had unsettled her…girlfriend? Well, Izzy thought, she certainly hoped that Echo was her girlfriend considering she groped Izzy the day before. Izzy hadn’t ever wanted to make the same mistake as Clarke had with Finn…or Lexa for that matter. No touchy until things were official; seems that Izzy had forgotten that vow in the heat of things. She understood Clarke and Finn now. 

“Why is this bad?” Izzy wanted to know, leaning back to look at Echo. She wanted to see the looks that rolled across Echo’s features. 

Echo frowned and then looked away. “Because he was dressed like Skaikru and maunon. He was holding open a door and his blood was black.”

It was Izzy’s turn to frown. “His blood was what color?” she asked. “Had he been stabbed in the liver?” she asked. Izzy had heard that in a move once, probably just Hollywood bullshit too. 

“No.” Echo stated pithily. She let out a long breath, the warm air leaving her body turned instantly to mist that hung between them. “Black blood is the blood of the commanders.” Echo explained. “Every child with natblida is taken to Polis, where they are trained in hopes that they are one day chosen by the Spirit of the Commander to be the next Heda.”

Izzy nodded slowly. This wasn’t making sense to her. She wondered if the blood was a mutation caused by all the radiation. Then she wondered what the Spirit of the Commander was; she was pretty sure that it was Anya’s favorite thing to take in vain or swear by. 

“So…this man having black blood is bad?” Izzy asked slowly and Echo nodded. “We’re going to have to investigate this, aren’t we?” again Echo nodded. “It’s because Clarke and I understand technology isn’t it?” 

Echo, for a third time nodded. “Yes.” She said. “Also because there are no fleimkepa scouts nearby.”

Izzy frowned at the word she’d never heard before. “What’s fleimkepa?” she asked, huddling in closer to Echo as the cold started to seep through her coat. 

“They are the Keepers of the Flame.” Echo said after a long while. It was as if she’d had to think about her answer first, get the wording right. “They seek out and train the natblida, advise the current Heda and help the new Heda when they come to power. It is well known that they are devout worshipers of the Flame…The Spirit of the Commander.”

Izzy couldn’t judge. People on the Ark had prayed to a tree of all things. Even in the new world, people had the right to worship what they wanted as long as it didn’t include human sacrifice or Izzy’s chosen family being harmed. 

“Aster went to talk to Clarke, didn’t she?” Izzy asked knowingly, shivering now. Everything, as always, went through Clarke. “We get to go see another dead guy.” Izzy added with false cheer before Echo led her back towards the cabin and the fire that burned in its fireplace. 

***

Izzy swore softly as she followed behind Clarke and Aster trudging down the path that the hunter-scouts were leading through; the pack she wore rode rough upon her plaster bandage. Behind her was Echo. The woman from Azgeda had made a vow, where Izzy went so did Echo; which then meant that where Clarke went so did Izzy and, now, Echo. Izzy thought it was sweet while Clarke muttered lowly about not needing another ‘follower’. 

When they arrived at the mysterious door, Clarke knelt beside the frozen body. Aster and the others of Vingtonkru stayed back, allowing Izzy and Echo to get closer. Izzy frowned at the inside of the door and the logo that was just above a smear of black blood. The logo belong to the Eligius Corporation and there was no way that the door was radiation proof. 

“This man was killed by a gun.” Clarke stated darkly. Izzy looked back and saw that Clarke features had twisted up in anger and disgust. “Whomever killed this man was neither grounder nor natripa.” Izzy tried not to smirk at the mental image of a natripa holding a gun, clawed fingers unable to fit through the trigger. 

Izzy just nodded and said, “Well, I’m pretty sure whatever’s beyond this door was once a research felicity.” Clarke looked at her questioningly, waiting for Izzy to explain herself. “Well, in the early 2040s, Eligius Corporation opened several research facilities in this region. All the papers said was that they were to explore avenues that would allow for better working conditions for their prisoner labor force. I   
also know that they and Becca created that,” Izzy pointed towards the blood smear. “It was supposed to be for Eligius III or something. The article was a puff piece meant, I’m sure, to smooth the ruffled feathers of the families of the prisoners. The black blood was supposed to help the body’s ability to metabolize radiation.”

“You mean, if Dante Wallace would have had that, he wouldn’t have had to take people or drill into our people.” Clarke looked mortified. “They could have walked the earth.” Izzy had the feeling that Clarke’s mortification was in the imaging of what that sort of world would look like; Izzy certainly would have been arrested again. 

Izzy shrugged. “I just know what I read. Honestly, until Echo told me about this I thought it was just science fiction. Eligius Corporation’s attempt at placating the people about sending expendables into space.” Izzy said that last with a growl; to her, it hit a little close to home. “I’ve no idea how their ruling class came to have this…this…natblida?” she looked to Echo to see if she’d gotten the pronunciation correct, Echo nodded. 

Clarke looked determined and drew an arrow, setting on her string as she said, “Looks like we’re going back into the belly of the beast.” Izzy thought Clarke should stick to drawing; a quipper of poetic verses she was not. Clarke glanced at Echo and the rest, who had all taken a step back at Clarke’s proclamation. “Izzy and I will go first. Echo, Aster, you two stay here and make sure that no natripa sneak in behind us.”

Izzy could see that both women wanted to bulk against the order but neither of the wanted to follow Izzy and Clarke into the facility. For Echo, Izzy could understand her fear; Echo had never said just how long she’d been a captive of the Maun-de. Izzy would imagine that Aster’s fear steamed from horror stories passed along that got worse with every telling. 

“No.” Echo shook her head, staring at Izzy. “Every time I have left either of you alone you’ve come back injured. You are like children and someone must watch over you!” Echo straightened her posture and looked defiant; Izzy about swooned before she remember herself, she didn’t want to give Clarke or Aster anymore to use to tease her. 

Aster growled, interrupting Clarke. “I will not be made to look weak by Azgeda!” the warrior woman scowled, a playful mocking tone. She glared at Echo. “I am their fos, if anyone will watch over my seconds it will be me!” Aster declared and drew her sword. She nodded to a bemused Clarke. “Lead the way girl, we don’t have all day!”

Izzy wasn’t sure if getting the two women to go with them had been Clarke’s intentions but it had worked. She didn’t even mind Echo insulting her by calling Izzy a child. Instead she just drew her sword and followed Clarke through the door, stepping over the dead body as they went. 

***

Lights overhead flickered on and off as Clarke slowly led the way down the hall. Izzy was just waiting for something to pop out and roar at them. She’d seen enough horror movies to know that nothing good awaited them at the end of this search. 

Especially with all the fresh bullet scars on the walls and the frozen black blood on the floor. They found two more bodies in the hall just off the door; just like their friend at the door, they were both frozen and had been shot to death. Izzy wasn’t quite as unsettled by this as Clarke; Izzy was really hoping that one of their fellows had just lost his mind had gone ‘postal’. 

That was certainly a better theory than what else Izzy, and probably, Clarke was imaging. Izzy didn’t want to entertain the idea that someone had come in and attacked; getting through a solid steel door and half a dozen natripa that could literally tear a grown man to pieces in under a few seconds. That was certainly more plausible than the natripa being the root cause. 

Izzy’s sense of dread continued to climb the further they went along. She could swear that the walls were getting narrower as they went. Closing in with every locked door they came across that had a lab number stenciled on a plague and the scientific name of an animal. 

They’d found four labs. Izzy frowned as she’d read the first name, Panthera onca. That dread became twisted in her stomach to think that natripa just might have been created. 

“Panthera onca?” Clarke murmured. “Jaguar?” she asked. 

Echo nudged Izzy as Clarke traced her fingers over the engraved name. “What language is that?”

Izzy spoke softly. “Back in the day, people, just like today, named everything. The official names like that,” Izzy explained and pointed to Clarke’s fingers, “are called scientific names.”

Aster scoffed. “Why not just use they’re regular names?”

Izzy sighed. “First name gives the genus; it’s a level of classification. Second name gives the species. Panthera is group of big cats that all have the same skull shape. Lions, tigers, jaguars…and you both have no clue as to what animals I’m naming, do you?” Izzy heaved another sigh when Aster and Echo shook their heads. “Right, think of it this way: First name is like a village name. Second name is like hunters, healers, farmers and so forth. That better?” 

Echo just nodded and motioned for an amused Clarke to keep moving. Izzy had forgotten where they were in her need to explain. Sometimes…well, a lot of the time, Izzy wished she wasn’t a walking encyclopedia and that ‘I forgot’ wasn’t just a phrase. 

Izzy nearly jumped of out her skin several minutes later when a door whooshed open suddenly. Her three companions hadn’t handled the surprise any better. Aster and Echo brandished their swords and Clarke had drawn her string back to make someone her pincushion. 

Clarke ordered Aster and Echo to wait by the door and for Izzy to keep following; Izzy thought having someone with two good arms would have been the right choice as immediate backup. It wasn’t for long that Izzy got to lament that thought. The second she had followed Clarke through the door hissed shut behind and a lock clunked tightly into place. 

Echo was pounding on the door, her face visible through the little window, when red tinged gas started to fill the room. Clarke swore loudly as she and Izzy had started coughing. Izzy felt lightheaded as she tried finding the control panel that unlocked the door; everything became a little more difficult with each breath she took. Her shoulder throbbed when she fell onto it when her knees gave out. 

***

The first thing that Clarke noticed when she woke was that Echo and Aster were still pounding on the door, Echo screaming in a mixture of languages. It was with great effort, Clarke opened her eyes. Took several blinks before her vision cleared and then she swore. 

She and Izzy had been strapped into metal chairs, reminded Clarke of barber chairs she’d seen in old paintings but these were fancier and had technology built into them. Clarke felt chilled. She was enraged to realize that she’d been stripped of her armor, coat and shirt.

Across from her, Izzy was still unconscious; her head lulled forward at what looked like a painful angle. Her dark brown hair had come loose in its braids and several strands had fallen down into her face. All Clarke wanted for that moment was for Izzy to open her honey colored eyes so Clarke would know that her best friend was okay. Clarke wasn’t sure what she’d do if Izzy didn’t wake up; Izzy was family and Clarke had already lost enough family to last her a lifetime.

“I had hoped that you would wake first, Miss Griffin.” A man called softly off to Clarke’s left. 

Clarke snarled as she turned her head, struggling against her restraints. She roared at the little old man who’d spoken. His face was heavily wrinkled, his clothes impeccable and his green eyes were tired. In his withered hands was a small grey cube shaped box. 

The man waited until Clarke had exhausted herself in her struggle. Waited until Clarke had run out of stream, cursing at him and ordering him to let her and Izzy go. His stoicism made Clarke fight harder.

The man simply smiled when Clarke was done. “Well, now that you are done, we can precede. Firstly, my name is Peter Newman and I am the last employee of the Eligius Corporation alive on Earth; please, call me Peter.” That wasn’t what Clarke was going to call him.

“Bullshit!” Clarke countered. “That’d make you well over a hundred. You should be dead!”

Peter merely nodded. The door behind him slid shut and vanished, simply looking like another portion of the wall. With a slow canter Peter made his way over to Clarke and Izzy. 

“One hundred and thirty five last June.” Peter informed Clarke as he sat the box down on a small side table. Clarke growled when Peter opened the box and pulled out an injection gun. “Yes,” he said sadly, “I’m afraid that I will have to use this. Let me explain as I work…umm…I’m sorry.” 

Clarke thought, for a second, that Peter did look apologetic as he reached over and pressed a button on the side of Clarke’s chair. She yelped when there was a sharp pinching sensation to her wrist where she was restrained. Clarke wanted to complain but, almost instantly, her body went numb; she couldn’t move a muscle. 

“These chairs were made to restrain prisoners who were violent offenders.” Peter mumbled. “We took every precaution to keep them still without hurting them. The paralyzing agent you’re feeling was my own invention.”

Peter studied the control display of Clarke’s chair for a moment and then nodded. He was satisfied about something. Clarke grunted at him, the only sound she could make, when Peter retuned to fumbling with his injection gun. 

“Oh, right.” Peter looked surprised, and then sheepish as he turned to Clarke. “I was going to tell you a story. Forgive me.” he nodded, and then slipped a vial of a black, oily substance into the gun and drew the plunger. “Where to start?” he mumbled, setting the gun down as he pondered his own question. “Right, with this.” 

He held up another vial of the oily substance for Clarke to get a proper look. It simmered the way that spilled oil would on the Ark, a prism in the dark. Clarke glared at the man. 

“This was developed by a partner of Eligius. A woman named Becca, her last name slips my mind now.” Peter sighed sadly, shaking his head at himself. “This, originally, was used to help our assets metabolize radiation. We found a planet in the Goldilocks Zone that had oil, Earth had run dry, you see. Our probe had brought back mineral and floral samples. This planet was too great a treasure to pass up. However, spatial radiation over the course of their journey would have been…too much.”

Peter zoned out then. His eyes focused on the gun in his hands but they were unfocused at the same time. Clarke had seen Izzy do this when she got lost in her memories. With a grunt from Clarke, Peter remembered himself. He drew a startled breath, looked at Clarke, and then started nodding. 

He rubbed at chest. “First, Becca developed this black blood serum. It worked, on humans. However, my employers wanted it to work on animals because the local fauna on this new planet…didn’t seem…best suited for the needs of a human colony. We could never get a sample to study because they would evade the probes or destroy them.” Clarke had a bad feeling she knew where this was heading. “So, we were to test this serum upon a carefully selected group of animals. Livestock and domesticated animals. Those animals that had been essential to transition from hunting and gathering to farming and cities.”

Peter frowned as he used a wipe to clean a spot on Izzy’s right forearm; she’d been stripped to her bindings as Clark had. Clarke was screaming, as best she could, in concert with Echo and Aster, as Peter stuck Izzy with the gun and inject the whole vial into Izzy. Sickening panic stabbed at Clarke’s heart and she struggled to breathe as she watched the inky black travel up Izzy’s veins. 

When the blackness had started to cross Izzy’s chest, Izzy started to seize. Tears leaked down Clarke’s cheek, she was trying to scream for Peter to stop, as her friend’s body violently shuddered and writhed. A frothy foam gurgled out of her mouth and leaked down her cheek in a slimy line. The only thing keeping Izzy from flying out of her chair were her restraints; so powerful were Izzy’s protesting muscles that Clarke’s numb body could still feel them through the chair. 

Then, just as suddenly as it began, Izzy’s body still and went limp. Clarke whimpered, her vocal cords not capable of her continued screaming as Izzy’s breathing sounded labored and wet. The blonde girl mental vowed to break Peter in half as he hummed to himself as he checked Izzy’s pulse and then started to clean her face. Not only had she drooled on herself but also, black tears had started leaking from her eyes. 

“I knew she would survive.” He winked at Clarke. “Our success rate of conversion was near eighty percent before the world ended.” Peter mused happily and then frowned as he admitted. “With humans, that was, but not so with our early animal tests. Black blood, you understand, was made in space. Can only be created in space but here, on Earth, we can modify it to serve our needs. The panther was chosen as a test species because of its hunting skills and, we thought, those would come in handy at the colony.” 

Clarke thought that was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard. Panthers were wild animals with strong instincts and they saw humans as prey. How could they have ever hoped to control them? Clarke’s question was answered when Peter reached in the box and took out a small, white ceramic chip. An infinity symbol was etched into the surface. 

Peter looked quite proud of the device held in his fingers. “This is a control chip. A device that was also invented by Becca’s company. It was a means to which we could control the prisoners and our animal test subjects. A computer program that used a living host as the interface that would promote obedience as well as increase the speed at which a body heals.” The old man smirked at the chip. 

Clarke was horrified and she was suddenly more terrified than she’d ever been in her life as Peter pushed a button on Izzy’s chair, causing it to start to move. First, Izzy was laid back so she was lying flat. Peter drew another few straps across Izzy at her forehead, chest, waist and knees. He, then, quickly waddled back around to the control display. Another series of buttons had put Izzy up on her side. 

“Oh, yes, as I was saying. Our first animal trials failed. The panthers became ill. One of them scratched a veterinary technician who was drawn blood samples. A small scratch that we over looked.” Peter looked to Clarke and frowned. “That scratch spread the illness to the technician who then spread it to our batch of serum meant for the next round of prisoners. What happened when the first prisoner thereafter was injected was…appalling. He began to transform as his DNA was overwritten by the feline RNA virus. I am sad to say that Inmate 30932 became the first ‘natripa’ as your friends would call them.”

Clarke wanted to throw up as she started to comprehend what this meant. Her eyes darted frantically to Izzy. She was inspecting every bit of her friend she could see for changings. Wishing, praying and yelling for Echo and Aster to bust through the damned door already. It had been a long time since Clarke was this scared for Izzy; she hadn’t had time with the natripa or the panther hunt.

The sudden beeping from Clarke’s chair altered Peter to her distress. “Oh, no, no!” Peter shook his head. “I haven’t done that to Miss Richards. She’s not going to become a natripa. I’m sorry for the misconception. All that she has been given for the moment was a clean black blood serum.” He chuckled light. Clarke decided she was going to break his neck. “No, after that first incident, the contaminated batch of serum was taken from this facility and transported to another. There, they were supposed to study the cause of the change. They never got the chance as the bombs fell and they all died of the radiation.”

Clarke thought that was poetic justice. She hoped those bastards suffered slow and painful deaths. The kind of deaths that Clarke had only wished upon the Wallace family and Anya at one point in time; the Commander too if she was being honest with herself, but that wishful thinking had faded quickly. 

The old man shifted uncomfortably as he meet Clarke’s cold blue eyes. “As-as I was saying, the natripa serum was never studied but simply stored because of the bombs. Another facility, not far from here…well, before cars became useless, was as lucky as we were. They, too, helped with prisoner conversion for Eligius III and conducted studies of their own upon larger livestock such as horses, cows and pigs.” Peter broke Clarke’s gaze and Clarke mentally smirked at a dribble of sweat rolled down the side of Peter’s face. “Anyways, after the bombs, those of us at this facility injected ourselves with the serum. We had our own farm, basically, on the lower levels and that special flower that your fellows at the nearby village harvest. It was a specimen brought back from the new planet, remarkable qualities with vast medical application but I’m sure that you understand that, don’t you, Miss Griffin?”

Clarke’s mental rant of hatred stopped cold. This was the second time he’d called her by her last name, she realized; he’d even used Izzy’s. She wanted to know how he knew their names. 

“So, after the bombs…which was caused by a bad A.I. program of Becca’s.” Peter’s face twisted up in anger then. “Of course she and her co-workers weren’t simply happy with our chips. Oh, no, never satisfied with something that simple that worked. Those nitwits created a program that destroyed life on Earth as we knew it,” he seethed, his fist clenching around the chip he’d picked up again. “Then that little bitch, A.L.I.E. got into our systems here and started rooting around. Wanted to try and find a way up into space to Polaris Station so she could find her marker.” Clarke watched as Peter raged and ranted. He’s gaze snapped to Clarke. “We destroyed that bitch, we did! Trapped her in an external hard drive meant for next Eligius mission and then double sweeps of our systems. Then we doused the drive with formaldehyde and burned her.”

Peter’s eyes went unfocused again as his chest heaved. Clarke was caught between worrying that he was going to have a heart attack and wanting him too. If the man died, Clarke was worried how she and Izzy were going to get out of the chairs and the room. So far, Echo wasn’t having any luck and she’d moved on to trying to break the glass window of the door. 

It was Izzy’s moan that drew Peter out of his state. His whole body relaxed and his happier demeanor returned. Clarke felt disturbed at how quickly his mood had changed and that he was now smiling at her. 

“Ninety seven years is a very long time, Miss Griffin.” Peter stated, again he sounded sad. “We lived long lives because of the serum and the alien flower. Built tunnels to safely traverse to our other facilities, that is how we acquired our guards outside, the natripa. Used the radio to find survivors like those in Mount Weather.” Clarke was back to feeling fear over anger. “Oh, don’t worry, Miss Griffin. What I’m doing isn’t all about the destruction of the installation. In fact, I mean to applaud you. You know, in my youth, I voted for Dante Wallace’s father for President of the United States. He was only in office two years before the bombs fell. That does not mean, however, that I agreed with what they were doing to the survivors outside.”

Peter looked to the door where Echo and Aster were struggling. He had a mournful look on his face. One of regret and it was one that Clarke recognized as it had graced her own face since she’d come to Earth. 

The man sounded distant when he spoke next. “We lied to them. Told them that this facility was safe from radiation but they could never come here because the tunnels weren’t protected. We’d needed the rest of our serum for testing on the animals to keep them alive; to keep us alive.” Peter’s shoulders sagged. “We traded with them for supplies that we didn’t have and in return we sent them survivors that we caught dressed as Mount Weather guard in hazmat suits.”

Here, Clarke thought, it wasn’t possible to despise this man more than she already had. This man’s people were no better than Mount Weather. Worse even, because they had no need to capture the grounders and turn them over to become human blood bags.

Peter had blinked rapidly before he spoke. “It was during these procedures that we discovered that some of the survivors were presenting with black blood.” His gaze returned to Clarke. “We took samples from them, found that they matched our original serum near perfectly. Becca had come to the ground, injected people and it was being passed along from parent to child; it was remarkable. We only ever found a few of these survivors.” 

Peter didn’t have to explain further what happened to these individuals. She was pretty sure they’d been slaughtered the day pervious. Clarke felt her facial muscles twitch and she was able to glare at Peter, the drug he’d injected her with was wearing off. The old man frowned again. 

“It would seem that I’ve spent too much time talking.” He stated. “But, I needed you to understand.” Peter looked to the chip in his hand, shook his head and reached back for the cube shaped box. From within he drew a scalpel. Clarke was screaming this time, her throat working, as Peter cut a line down the back of Izzy’s neck. “Praecipe parere,” Peter muttered to the chip. 

Clarke gasped as little bluish colored tentacles slipped out of the chip. She watched, starting to fight her restraints again as Peter inserted the chip into Izzy. The tentacles slipped past flesh and pulled the body of the chip into Izzy; Clarke flinched at the wet, slurping sounds that were made. With the same, now steady, hand that Peter had cut Izzy with, he started to sew her back up again. 

“Don’t worry, Miss Griffin.” Peter called causally. “As I said, ninety seven years is a long time, especially when one is trapped inside and is passed-by by the world around them. We reprogramed the chips and tweaked the serum. Same modifications made to the contaminated serum but, I digress.” Peter sighed as he stood and set his suturing kit aside. He picked up the injection gun again, the second vial of serum was loaded. “The radiation it was supposed to metabolize is used instead of being shunted from the body. Faster, stronger with heightened senses of hearing and vision. These abilities are harnessed by the chip. Faster healing abilities are given and with the chip’s program, I can make a person smarter and, essentially, a better warrior. Whatever I want, basically. We were only limited by our programing skills.”

Clarke’s fight was renewed as Peter shuffled towards her with the gun readied, plunger pulled back. He was panting as he reached her. A wrinkled hand rubbing at his chest as he reached her. 

“We made a mistake. You made a mistake, Miss Griffin.” Peter told Clarke. “You did not kill the population of Mount Weather down to the last man. That was your mistake. Our mistake was welcoming Carl Emerson, Mount Weather security detail, into our home.” Clarke froze, her panting only slightly more frenzied than Peter’s own. “He went mad, Miss Griffin, when he discovered our truth. He murdered my people, friends and family, and hacked into our system. This man learned of our natripa before we could shut him out. I would never have done this to you, Miss Griffin, but desperate times and time is not something that I have a lot left of at all. You will have a command chip, not like what I gave Miss Richards. The information on the chip will explain everything that I have failed to mention, there will be tutorials and such.” Peter grimaced, gritting his teeth. “I am sorry, Miss Griffin, but I must ask you to defeat Carl Emerson again and protect the outside survivors. He is going for the natripa serum but he doesn’t know which facility it is housed. Do what you must, please forgive me. Good luck and Godspeed to you.”

Clarke screamed herself hoarse when Peter pulled the trigger. The ink invading her veins the same as it had done Izzy. The girl had a fleeting thought before as serum burned its way up her arm. She was glad that Izzy had been unconscious for this and she hoped it was a pain that Izzy would never remember.


	9. Where's The Rabbit?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took for-freaking-ever. Life has been... well, it has been something alright. I want to thank every who left a comment asking for and about this chapter. You are the reason its not collecting digital dust on my computer.

Izzy felt weightless and surrounded by something cool. It reminded her of when Anya tossed her in a pond near TonDC to teach her how to swim; Izzy was sure that it was the first time that a Skaikru had gotten to float without dying…mostly. The sensation was calming. 

The sensation didn’t last long, though, as a flash of information zipped across the inside of Izzy’s eyelids. A string of numbers that represented a computer code. Izzy tried to jerk her head away, to make it stop but the stream of coding continued. 

The streaming came faster and Izzy felt a building pressure at the base of her skull. Her head felt too full. Izzy tried to fight but a voice whispered ‘praecipe parere’ and Izzy stilled.  
Behind the voice came snippets of jargon that Izzy only halfway understood. There came scraps of footage that reminded Izzy of training videos. Then came real pain and Izzy was screaming but she couldn’t feel her body move. 

Her brain flooded with a presence. It was nothing and something all at the same time; there but no personality. This presence whispered things to her. Instructions that Izzy couldn’t understand as the presence sunk deeper into her mind. Izzy felt like molten metal had injected into her brain; for a moment she thought that was laughable because the brain itself doesn’t feel pain. 

That voice whispered again. “Praecipe parere. You are commanded to obey. Breathe, Izzy.” Izzy gasped for breath. Her chest drawing in great gulps at her lungs determined demands. “Sleep, Izzy.” The voice told her. “When you awake, you will find your commanding officer.”

Izzy had no idea what that meant but a strange urge compelled her. She mumbled unhappily about being ordered around as her body started to feel heavier. Her understanding of the world she was in faded as she slipped into unconsciousness. 

***

Soft but calloused fingers woke Izzy as the traced down along the side of her jaw. Pain blossomed behind Izzy’s eyes, stabbed at her temple and ached along her spine as Izzy was drawn into the world of wakefulness. She moaned, groaned, unhappily and tried to pull away from the fingers so to fall back to sleep. 

“No, hodnes.” A distraught voice urged. 

Izzy grumbled and panted as her head was lifted up and something was put her to lips. She started to choke when a sweet tasting liquid filled her mouth. Izzy tried to spit it back out so she could breathe but a hand clamped tightly over her mouth and pinched her nose shut. Without the strength to rebel, Izzy had no choice once her need for air kicked in; she swallowed what was in her mouth and the hand moved. 

Soft lips pressed against her forehead. “Good, hodnes. Very good.” 

“Echo?” Izzy questioned, and then whimpered. Her voice hurt to use. 

Izzy felt another kiss pressed to her skin. “Sha, I’m here.”

There was a sense of relief that rushed over Izzy knowing that Echo was there with her. “Let’s agree…no more…going underground?” Izzy managed. 

She felt Echo chuckle and nod. Izzy was sure that Echo had replied but she couldn’t understand what was being said. Echo’s voice had sounded muffled and drowned out by Rento’s voice. 

“Urka, are you sure they are going to live?” the chief asked sounding worried and afraid. “They must not die. They are of us, now. They are Ouskejonkru. Besides, what would we tell Heda?” the man whimpered. 

Izzy heard Urka grunt unhappily. It was followed by the sound of someone getting slapped across the face. Rento yelped and grumbled. 

Urka had slapped her chief. “Stop worrying so much!” she demanded tersely. “Clarke and Izzy will survive. Already their wounds are healed. As for what that bushhada put inside them,” the woman sighed heavily and shook her head, “I have not the skill or knowing to deal with. Had Clarke not woken up enough to tell me not to try and remove them, I would have suggested sending for Skaikru fisa.” Izzy frowned as she heard both languages; not that Urka was speaking English but it was Izzy’s understanding of the few words that had slipped from her. 

“Alright.” Rento said as he took loud and calming breaths. “We’ve everything under control.”

Urka growled as she demanded. “How are you our Chief again?” 

Rento replied to tell her to shut up as Izzy heard him walk away. It was amusing to her that Rento was such a worry wart at times. She always thought that was what made him so endearing, even if he had lied to them about the natripa. 

***

Clarke hurt. Every inch of her seemed to throb with pain. Quite frankly, she wasn’t sure how she was standing. Or where she was standing for that matter. Clarke’s eye were closed but she knew she was standing. 

“Welcome, valued employee.” A raspy but cheerful voice startled Clarke. 

When she opened her eyes, Clarke found herself standing in a white walled room with a large monitor in front of her. Off to the side was a woman. Dark hair, tan complexion with bright but dark eyes. There was a smile on her face that unnerved Clarke; it was forced. 

“My name is Becca, and I’m here today to guide you through orientation.” The woman spoke again. Clarke frowned; could this really be that Becca woman that Izzy had talked about before? “First, let me congratulate you on become a senior guard for the Eligius Corporation. You have passed grueling tests, punishing physicals and extensive psych evaluation in order to make it to this spot; go ahead, give yourself a pat on the back.”

Clarke took a step backwards instead. It was more than the smile that had her on edge. The woman’s whole demeanor was wrong. As if she was doing this against her will. 

Becca spoke again after mindless staring at Clarke for a long moment. “Now, let’s continue. You have been given the Command Interface. The newest innovation in corrections technology. With this chip, you can stop riots, violence and out of control inmates with a single thought. If you will it, it will happen…happen…happen….happen…” 

Clarke blanched when Becca started acting like a literal broken record. Skipping back over the same word as the scratch in the record refused to let the needle pass. Suddenly Becca vanished and the room dimmed. Clarke growled when Peter appeared on the large screen that’d been displaying the Eligius Corporation’s logo. 

“Hello, Miss Griffin. While this is merely a recording, I am still glad to see that you’ve survived. Hopeful, I’ve had time to tell you why I’ve taken the steps that I have. If not, please push the blue tab that is about to appear before you. If I have managed to regale you with this tale of woe, push the red tab. This will take you directly to the training program. Push either, or not, you will still come to the training room.”

The screen went dark and Clarke gasped when two floating, octagon shaped, boxes appeared in front of her. As Peter had said, one was blue and the other red. Clarke scowled as she pushed the red tab; she wasn’t in a hurry to hear Peter’s tale a second time through, she still wanted to kill the man. The world around Clarke turned red and then melted into darkness.

***

A lifetime passed for Clarke. There was so much information that she’d been forced to take in and process. Even now she was starting to feel Izzy. At first, she tried to pull away because Izzy was in so much pain. 

Clarke couldn’t pull away and was forced to deal as Izzy had with the pain. Forced to endure until relief was forced down Izzy’s throat by Echo. If Clarke had been treated to such care, she couldn’t tell; she was too far into the chip’s program to know much about her own body beyond the pain. 

Reaching Izzy had been easy. The chips were built for communications, relaying orders in areas where traditional methods were impossible. However, this still allowed them to act as regular radios.   
Clarke didn’t mind hearing Izzy this way in her head; thankful the girl still slept. It was what she was hearing outside of her body, now that it was returning to her that was the problem. Clarke, without the chip controlling and monitoring her senses for danger, could hear the whole of the village of Vington at once. Every conversation, every scrape of a knife over a sharpening stone, she could heard every heartbeat. 

The light hurt Clarke’s eyes when she woke. Urka helped her to a darkened room as her eyes struggled to adjust. The chip forcing Clarke to relearn what she had as a newborn. How to control her eyes as the chip had taken over certain parts of her grey matter. Clarke was seriously going to end Peter when this was over. 

While Clarke was plotting her revenge, something tugged at the edge of her consciousness. A little pinprick, really, of a half formed thought. Halfway between awake and sleep. Clarke could feel another with the prisoner’s chip but they were too distant for her own chip to connect with them. 

In anger, Clarke wallowed in the dark with pieces of cloth shoved in her ears. Her body struggling to readjust. Clarke knew what she and Izzy had to do. They were going to return to that facility. They were going to get answers. 

***  
Izzy wanted to say that she was surprised by what had befallen herself and Clarke but, really, she wasn’t because nothing on Earth made sense. Every time they thought they had things figured out they would get bitch slapped by a new reality. Izzy, though, could do with that reality letting her hear things from clear across the village or letting her see a single, perfect, snowflake in micro-perfection, as it fell from the sky. 

She could really do without hearing Clarke’s voice in her head because their chips allowed for that short of communication. Also, without all that rush of information that hurt so badly that it felt like white-hot daggers were being driven through her skull. Though, as the days passed, Izzy found that the pain started to fade. 

She wasn’t sure if it was because the information dump slowed or if it was because Izzy had been tossed back into training; Aster told her that real warriors work through the pain. Izzy felt as if the presence in her head was working out the kinks. She didn’t notice that she was no longer getting knocked down. At the end of the day, she still would crawl into Echo’s arms and bury her face into her love to try and block out the world. 

Clarke had it worse. She was still locked in a darkened room at Urka’s with cloth stuffed into her ears and on a constant stream of the village’s strongest painkillers. The only person she would talk to was Izzy and that was through their chips. 

For a while all Clarke could do was mutter, over and over again, “observas mandatum meum.” The voice in Izzy’s head translated the phrase. It meant, “It is my command you obey.”

What did surprise, Izzy, was when Clarke marched out of her exile three weeks after Peter had attacked them and announced they had to return to the Eligius facility. Made no sense to Izzy that those were the first words spoke, out loud, by her friend. At first, Izzy was sure that she’d heard wrong. 

“We’re not doing that…that’s what I heard.” Izzy gently patted Clarke on the shoulder, Echo nodding vigorously in agreement. “That’s a great choice, Clarke. I am so glad that you decided that…to not go back, ever.”

Clarke had rolled her eyes. “We are going back.” Clarke corrected. “There are things that I need to understand about this-this-this thing in my head. I know that we can’t remove them without another password otherwise we’d just be killing ourselves.” Clarke was not happy about that. “We are getting answers!”

Izzy just sighed and frowned at Echo; a pleading look that was almost begging her to talk reason into their friend. Izzy could have killed them both when Echo agreed with Clarke. Echo wanted answers about what had been done to them. 

Like many others, Echo had noticed Izzy’s sudden increase in fighting skill. Izzy had always had skill and natural talent; she was a good fighter simply because Izzy wasn’t the type of person to actively seek out a fight that didn’t include Bellamy. Now, though, she was getting to be a great fighter. 

Izzy diligently followed when Clarke and Echo headed back to the facility. Aster had gone too though she’d called them fools beforehand. It was two days to the facility and Izzy noticed, now, that nothing moved around the place. No birds chirped in the trees, no small game rustled around in the underbrush and no bigger animals passed by. 

The only thing that stirred was the breeze through the still snowy trees; Izzy was hoping that April was the month that the cursed snow started to melt. Izzy mentioned this to Clarke through the chip and Clarke paused as she was about to punch in the code to the now closed door. She straightened up and looked around, eyes squinted as she peered off into the distance. 

Clarke shivered and quickly punched in the code that her chip had given her. The door buzzed and Clarke almost fled into the brightly lit hallway. Peter was a dick, Izzy decided, for more than turning their blood colors and putting chips in their heads. The man had manipulated their trek through the facility by way of lights and locked doors. Izzy was the last one through the door.

***

“Clarke, I’m tell you this kindly.” Izzy’s tone was anything but kind. “I was arrested before I could even begin any sort of training for any field on the Ark. In the Sky Box, they did a round robin sort of thing just in case some of us were pardoned. I could fix this.” Izzy growled pointing at the control display before her. “I could navigate it with relative ease. However, I cannot hack this. Apparently, I wasn’t programed with that skill set. Were you?”

It was a good thing that the keyboard was attached to the table or Izzy would have thrown it across the room. Peter and his people had locked down all essential systems and programs when they’d blocked Emerson. This included everything that might be on the chips in their heads and access to the lower floors. It was only Clarke’s chip that got them into the control room on the main floor.  
They’d been in the facility for two days. The frozen bodies had been removed, burned and the blood scrubbed from the walls and floors; the blood cleaned by Izzy and Clarke while Echo and Aster had removed the bodies. The two older women had chosen this duty so they could spend as much time out of the facility as possible. 

Clarke growled in frustration. “Then what can you do?” she asked, arms folded across her chest. 

“I can get the radio working.” Izzy winked at Echo, who wasn’t impressed, as she reached over and poked a button. 

The machine came to life and started searching the different channels for a signal. Izzy nearly jumped out of her skin when voices suddenly sounded over the speakers. For a second, she couldn’t understand what the familiar voices was saying; her tech-enhanced brain quickly caught up. It was Raven they heard first.

“I told you that it would reach Polis.” Raven was smug and Izzy could practically see the girl smirking. 

Both Izzy and Clarke moved back away from the machine when the answer came back. Izzy fled her chair and could feel the anger and heartbreak that was forming a lump in Clarke’s throat. It choked Izzy up too.

“This this very strange, Revion.” Lexa sounded unsure as she spoke over the radio.

A voice in the background spoke; it was Kane. “You have to let the button up so you can hear Raven again.”

“Oh…” Lexa muttered and the radio went dead. 

Izzy blinked, and cleared her throat, as Echo came to stand beside her. “Well, that was a thing.” She said and looked to Clarke. The blonde girl’s fists were clenched tightly and Izzy was worried that her friend was going to cut herself with her nails. “Maybe I shouldn’t have got it working?” 

Clarke shook her head, not looking away from the radio panel as she promised. “No, this is a good thing.” Clarke’s voice was steady and she was pushing her emotions back down; it became easier to breathe for the pair of them. 

Izzy found Clarke’s statement hard to believe as she leaned into Echo. Clarke took up Izzy’s seat and listened to the conversation. With a sigh, Izzy pulled away from Echo to move over to kneel beside Clarke. Izzy was truly hating the chips in her head because she could feel the wheels turning in Clarke’s.

“What are you thinking, Clarke?” Izzy wanted to know. 

Clarke gulped hard and pointed at the radio. “Monty and Raven could hack this system with ease. My mother and Aunt Callie could figure out what Peter did to us. I don’t want to admit this but…” Clarke looked down at Izzy. “We need their help.”

Izzy let out a long breath. She really didn’t like that plan. “Are you sure about this?” Izzy asked. “Once you reach out to them there’s no closing Pandora’s Box. They will know and we’ll have to face them.”

Clarke turned in her chair and gently cupped Izzy’s cheeks. “We both know this was coming eventually, Isabel.” Izzy sneered at the name usage; it’d been months since it’d been used, Izzy was hoping for a record. “There is no outrunning the past. As much as I want too. As much as I know that you would rather never return, just keep doing what we’re doing, we can’t.” 

“Even without this damned thing in my head, I will follow where you go, Clarke.” Izzy promised, feeling as if she had to remind Clarke again. “If you think contacting Arkadia is a good idea, then I’ll support you. Just…think it over first, please.” Izzy practically begged. It made her want to crawl out of her own skin to think about having to face what they’d left behind. “Don’t do this on a whim. Pandora’s Box, Clarke. 

Clarke smiled and moved her hands to rest on Izzy’s shoulders. “Just remember, Rafiki, after all the woes of man escaped, Pandora was able to close her box and keep in the most important thing that Zeus had placed inside; hope.” Clarke smiled sadly. “That’s what we need now. We need hope.” 

Izzy just nodded. She stood and hurried back to Echo. The Azgeda woman was watching them with interest but doing so silently. Echo gladly wrapped Izzy up in her arms and held her tightly while Izzy hid her face in Echo’s neck. Izzy was afraid. 

When Heda signed off, promising that they would radio again in two days’ time for a report on TonDc, Clarke opened the channel. Izzy had turned in Echo’s arm and leaned back against her; their finger’s interlaced as Echo’s chin rested on Izzy’s shoulder. 

“Arkadia, come in, come in Arkadia, this is Clarke Griffin, over.” Clarke’s voice was steady 

Raven’s response was almost immediate. “Holy shit!” the mechanic exclaimed. “You’re frigging alive!” Raven sounded happy, excited and Izzy’s dread deepened. She hated that feeling.

“Yea, we are.” Clarke nodded, looking back at Izzy. “Both Izzy and I are alive.”

“Clarke!” Dr. Griffin’s voice sounded almost frantic. “Where are you?”

Clarke hesitated. She looked to Izzy for support and Izzy just glared back and jerked her head towards the radio. “Safe.” Clarke answered and looked away from Izzy. “We’re safe. Izzy and I are all right but we sort of need some help. We’ve encountered a problem that needs…technical help.”

“HA!” Raven called victoriously in the background. “Glad you finally admit you can’t live without me!” 

“RAVEN!” Dr. Griffin chided tersely. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. “What kind of help, Clarke?”

The blonde girl’s shoulders sagged. Izzy could see the slight sneer on Clarke reflected in the display panel. Served Clarke right, Izzy thought; and Clarke told her to shut up through the chip. 

“The kind that needs Raven, Monty, Aunt Callie and…you, mom.” Clarke admitted, almost sounding humble. “I can’t explain over the radio because I’m not sure who else is listening in and I…well, we, I should say, would rather not have grand attention. Raven, I’m sorry, but we’re where the flowers grow.” Both Clarke and Izzy were hoping that Raven was as smart as she always boasted.   
Raven responded quickly. “I understand…I think? Do we need to bring anything special?” 

Clarke shook her head and Izzy snickered at the useless gesture. “No.” Clarke glared at Izzy. “Not really. Just bring yourselves.”

“AND COOKIES!” Izzy called out. “You forgot to leave some out for the Easter Bunny!” 

Raven growled lowly. “That’s Santa, Izzy. We know you know this!” 

Izzy just smirked as Clarke finished the conversation and turned the radio off to keep her mother from asking anymore questions. While that was an underhanded tactic, Izzy fully agreed with Clarke. Izzy sighed heavily and leaned her head against Echo’s. 

“They are your people.” Echo whispered softly. 

Izzy kissed Echo’s cheek. “No,” she told her love. “You are my people. You, Clarke, Aster and the rest of Vington. No matter how much I want to drop kick Rento into space at the moment. You are my people.” Izzy restated for emphasis and Echo smiled at her. 

***

To say that Izzy was not handling Clarke’s decision to bring Skaikru very well would have been and understatement. The more she thought about the coming arrivals the more manic she became.   
Izzy couldn’t eat without getting heartburn or feeling as if she was going to vomit. Her new blood and healing abilities only managed the symptoms but left Izzy miserable. Izzy was to the point where she hated looking at food in general. 

Worst of all, Izzy couldn’t sleep. The whirling pit of emotions in her stomach refused to settle. As Izzy’s insomnia grew she would lie in bed and snuggle close to Echo only to stare at the ceiling of the tent all night. 

The only consolation that Izzy felt was the fact that Clarke was also becoming slightly neurotic. Only Clarke’s anxiety manifested in the need to clean and inspect every inch of the facility that she could reach. Thus how Clarke took advantage of Izzy’s restlessness and the pair started picking electronic locks. 

Clarke didn’t want to know how Izzy had become so adapt at getting though the locks with just a few pieces of wire and a pocket knife. In return, Izzy didn’t want to know why Clarke kept going back to the laboratory with the panther nameplate. She sure as hell wasn’t going to ask about the mutterings inside Clarke’s head when she’d find Clarke staring at the door. 

In the days since they’d started their breaking and entering, Izzy had managed to steer Clarke away from the panther door. A tactic that worked until Izzy wasn’t given a choice. Clarke became downright pushy on the subject and threatened to use the chip to make Izzy obey; Izzy thought that was dirty pool and told Clarke all about it…as she was working the panel off the lock. 

There was a moment when Izzy was messing with the wires when she got them crossed. Izzy yelped as she was showered in hot sparks and the hand holding the wire went numb as she was zapped. The pain was up there with getting hit with a shock baton. 

Izzy had fallen backwards onto her butt, holding her abused hand when the lights went out and bathed the hallway in pure darkness. The girl froze while Clarke swore. Izzy suddenly didn’t like the dark; not when she couldn’t even see her own numb and burned hand. 

When the lights came back on seconds later, Izzy nearly collapsed with relief. The stress she’d been under nearly rendered her unconscious from absolute exhaustion and hunger. Izzy had almost fallen asleep there in the hallway before Clarke nudged her back awake. 

Izzy’s hands trembled as she went back to work; Izzy couldn’t guess the cause. She was almost giddy with excitement and triumph when the lock buzzed, turned green and then released. That was short lived when the door burst open and smacked Izzy right between the eyes. 

There were black spots on Izzy’s vision as she held her bleeding face. Izzy just wanted to lay there in defeat until she heard a sickeningly familiar roar. Albeit was tinier and more kitten sounding that what Izzy could remember but Izzy knew it for a natripa. 

“Oh, my stars!” Izzy, now lightheaded, had scrambled back to her feet and then stopped when she saw the creature that Clarke was facing. 

The creature was a natripa but it was child sized; a miniature natripa. Small body with spindly arms and thin legs with a fluffier looking coat than the adults had. Izzy would have thought a normal child around the age of ten would match the size of this creature. 

Izzy blanched when the little creature let out with a roar; there was a low mummer in her head that sounded like garbled words. Her body froze when Clarke roared back; calling for them to obey. Without her bidding, Izzy felt her body respond. 

She knelt beside the creature, head bowed. None of her muscles would move when she tried. Izzy’s body was fully under Clarke’s command as the blonde girl swept in and cradled the natripa to her chest.   
“I will never let anyone hurt you, Delphia.” Izzy heard Clarke promise in a whisper.


End file.
